


Rolling Like Thunder

by orphan_account



Series: Brothers [13]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: AU, BEWARE OF THE ANSGT, Brothers, M/M, Original Character(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-15
Updated: 2012-01-15
Packaged: 2017-10-29 15:03:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 40,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/321165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Tony, stop,” Loki chokes through his laughter, grabbing at his friend’s hand and squeezing. This is why his life would have been much better if only he’d met Tony earlier.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rolling Like Thunder

**Author's Note:**

> So I’d been really excited about writing this one for awhile now, and I hope it turns out as wonderfully as I hope it does. Uhm, I would like to point out that the Balder in this verse is not Marvel’s dumb, brutish Balder, nor is he mythology’s powderpuff. He is not Thor and Loki’s brother; he is their cousin, and while that really doesn’t coincide with mythology or canon, fuck it. Balder is mine, just like Freyr and Freya are mine. Sorry I took so long to put this one up; I'll have you know that I am a lazy bitch. Also, I'm not ignoring any comments on anything - again, I'm lazy as fuck. I do very much appreciate the feedback though, and I will reply to it... eventually.
> 
> ALSO, I warn you that this is a long motherfucker. A VERY long motherfucker. Proceed carefully.

He considers bringing his backpack with him when he remembers the psychology paper he _really_ needs to finish (it’s due _tomorrow morning_ , ugh), but ultimately decides against the notion after only a few moments of thought. Something tells him that Tony won’t loosen his tight grip on his attention long enough for him to concentrate on things like _homework_.

So, he relocates his backpack to the trunk of his Elantra, stuffing it in alongside the brand-new gift bag (the contents of which I _won’t_ reveal), shiny rolls of silver wrapping paper, and overflowing carton of books already crammed there. Loki takes a few moments to make sure everything is perfectly in place (just because he’s a meticulous, critical little shit), and when he decides he’s pleased with the arrangement of his trunk, he gets it firmly shut and locks the car down.

Loki feels just a bit naked without anything to carry (he’s usually lugging _something_ around wherever he may be, whether it’s his backpack as he’s going to class, a stack of books when he’s working, or his laptop when he’s traversing to a different room in his house) as he swiftly scales Tony’s front steps and approaches the door. To be honest, he’s kind of antsy, kind of anxious in a weird, inexplicable way. That could have to do with the fact that Thor will probably have a fit if he discovers where he is right now (not that Loki cares enough to let the thought stop him). Maybe it’s because his coming here is actually a lot less like a friendly house call and a lot more like an invitation for Tony to just _take_ him. Perhaps he’s just in one of those worked up, I-don’t-know-what-to-do-with-myself-so-I’ll-act-really-reckless sort of moods right now.

Whatever _it_ is, Loki pushes it far to the side and taps on Tony’s doorbell twice. He always goes for ringing the bell (if it’s available) instead of knocking whenever he’s faced with the minor obstacle of a door. When he was a child, Loki would feel somewhat _thrilled_ every time he got the chance to ring a doorbell, to listen to the melody that seemed to echo from inside the house he was preparing to enter. In contrast, Thor took delight on banging on doors as hard and as long as he possibly could.

Loki’s on the verge of slipping back into panic mode at the thought of _Thor_ (Since when does he let his brother get to him like _this?_ Oh, yeah. Since forever.) when the front door nearly _flies_ open. Suddenly, he’s looking into Tony’s exceptionally bright, open face, and _God_ , that’s just _wonderful_ like nothing else in the world. He grins.

“You were expecting me?” Loki teases in a light, purring tone (shit, that was forward), easily slipping past Tony (who looks like he could seriously be going into cardiac arrest) and through the doorway. He only has time to turn and face his friend before he’s being wrapped up in a hug that could rival Thor’s in terms of _damn, that’s heartfelt_.

“ _You’re_ happy to see me,” Loki laughs, and he actually feels like he could _die_ when Tony hums, buries his face in his jaw, and runs his hands slowly, firmly up his back. _Jesus Christ_ , he’s nearly shivering from the intimacy, and even though this kind of affection is a bit uncharacteristic of Tony (there’s quite a difference between flirtatiousness and downright _clinginess_ ), Loki’s not complaining about it or worrying. Yet.

“I’m _ecstatic_ ,” Tony drawls against his cheek, and it’s a whole lot like a kiss but totally _not_ at the same time when he mouths, lazy and gentle, against Loki’s skin. _Oh my God, **what is he doing**?_

“Tony, please,” Loki snaps a bit breathlessly. His tone is terse and cold, saying _stop, let me go, this is too much_ , but his body is asking Tony to _keep the fuck going as if your life depended on it_. He slides one lanky arm around Tony’s shoulders, moves the other to wind around his back, running a hand through the man’s conspicuously messy hair.

And, really. Stop looking at Loki that way. Would _you_ reject pleasure so, _so_ _sweet_ if you were in his position? (Depending on how responsible you are, you probably would, but let’s just act like the universal answer to this question is _no_.)

“Please what?” Tony asks, and he briefly pulls away to flash Loki this devilish smirk that does _dangerous_ things to the man’s heart. He’s leaning in and pressing his forehead against Loki’s, gazing at him with these dark, heady, _hungry_ eyes that absolutely murder Loki.

“Tony, you’re killing me,” Loki half-chokes, half-chuckles out (he keeps jumping between amusement and irritation and it’s _really_ scaring him), and it isn’t until his back connects with something solid and flat (the _door_ , holy shit) that he realizes Tony’s got him completely trapped (that’s the second time Tony has done something like this, mind you). Fuck _fuck **fuck**_.

“That’s okay,” Tony chuckles, “I know CPR.” Loki is totally unable to think of something to say, unable to _move_ , before Tony’s kissing him.

And it’s an unsettling, startling, _mindblowing_ gesture, both because of its suddenness and its tenderness. Loki was honestly expecting a rough and demanding clash of the lips, but Tony is fucking _savoring_ him, just barely touching their mouths together, and he’s pretty sure he’s going to go insane from _soft_ Tony is (because if you asked Loki what kind of lover he thought Tony would be, he’d bet _fiery_ instead of _gentle_ in a heartbeat). As if he hasn’t already.

“ _Stop, **Tony**_ ,” Loki moans, but he contradicts his plea by tangling his fingers further in Tony’s hair and tugging him even closer, if possible. Tony resists the pull and groans deeply, his whole body going as taut as a blade, and he and Loki just stare at each other for a long moment, hardly breathing.

It’s hotter than _hell_ in here.

Then Tony says, a little out of the blue, “Hey, Loki,” and he _smiles_. **_What_**.

“ _Hey, Loki?_ ” Loki mimics his friend, his tone dripping with disbelief as he quirks an eyebrow and asks, “Shall I expect rape first, _hello_ second every time I walk into your house from now on?”

Tony laughs quietly and bows his head to nuzzle just under Loki’s jaw, and _oh_ , that feels fucking _perfect_. He murmurs, in a voice so sultry that it’s like touching boiling water to _listen_ to, “Rape implies that you don’t like it.”

Loki lets his hands fall from Tony’s hair to rest limply on the man’s shoulders, argues, only a bit weakly, “I meant what I said.” Because _rape_ also means that the act was forced in some way, never mind how much the forced-upon party may enjoy said act. Oh my God, what am I saying?

“ _Nah_ ,” Tony hums, “I think you _loved_ it.” He’s rubbing his hands up Loki’s sides as he says this, rucking his t-shirt up, and _Je- **sus**_ – Loki’s body temperature is going through the fucking _roof_ , and his head is pounding, and his skin is burning, and _gah_. He doesn’t even know _what_ they’re doing anymore, has no earthly idea _where_ they are in relationship territory right now. _Thanks_ , Tony.

“I didn’t come here to have sex with you,” Loki sighs and, somewhat hypocritically, turns his head to kiss against the side of Tony’s neck a couple of times, drawing tiny gasps from the man’s throat when he does. Tony shifts to look at Loki with a slightly wounded expression.

And Loki’s telling the truth – he _didn’t_ come here to bone with Tony, even _if_ he _really_ wants to and even _if_ the man is practically begging him to spread his legs. It’s because it’s a Sunday night, because he has homework to do, because Thor’s still flipping shit about Tony, because _he’s_ still flipping shit about Tony, because Tony’s not acting like himself tonight (he really isn’t; Loki’s never seen the man so uncontrolled and out of his element since last December, regardless of the fact that he _is_ starving for him), because it’s _not_ _quite_ Tony’s birthday, and because fear is a powerful thing that Loki hasn’t already jumped his friend’s bones like a cat in heat. God knows that if circumstances were different, they’d be in Tony’s bed and rolling like thunder at this very moment.

“And _I_ didn-” Tony starts to protest, but Loki cuts him off with a quick, humming kiss to the lips. It’s pretty effective in shutting the man up (as well as making Loki feel both absolutely wonderful and devious as hell).

“Don’t,” Loki says, fixing Tony with a gaze that’s simultaneously piercing and pacifying, “I know that’s one of the things you wanted from me tonight. You don’t have to be embarrassed.”

Tony shuts his eyes for a few seconds, and the way he scrunches his face up and scowls conveys so much guilt and _shit, I should have known_ that Loki almost feels remorseful himself. He replies, his voice quiet like it nearly never is, “It’s not my fault you drive me so fucking crazy.”

Loki can’t help but smile a bit at Tony’s words, even though they _do_ upset him to an extent (it’s difficult to feel great about screwing with Tony’s mindset almost every time the two of them are in contact with one another). He embraces the man, more properly (chastely) this time, inquires, “I do that to you?”

Tony leans his head against Loki’s and loops his arms around the man’s waist, answers, “Yeah, more than I can say.”

Well, fuck. That’s just _awesome_.

Tony moves back a step to give Loki some elbow/breathing room (not that Loki particularly needs or wants it, if you know what I mean), and he announces, “I have something for you.”

Gifts? There’re _gifts_?

For the record, the longer Loki stands in Tony’s house, the _guiltier_ he feels, and you know why? I’ll tell you why.

Tony’s the one whose birthday is in a week, and all he’s getting is _pushed away_ (let’s disregard the fact that Loki’s presence in any way, shape, or form is probably more than spectacular to him). Meanwhile, Loki’s being smothered with love and is about to receive some unknown gift that, knowing Tony, will probably be fucking _amazing_ to him. See the imbalance?

So Loki automatically says, “I don’t want it,” even though he _adores_ getting things (all _kinds_ of things) from Tony. Look at him trying to be a good, honest person. Is he succeeding yet? ( _He_ doesn’t think that he is.)

Tony gives Loki this snarky, _oh yeah?_ kind of look and questions, “You sure? I think you’d like it.”

“I’m certain I would, but I can’t take it,” Loki objects, glancing at the floor for a moment, “I’d feel horrible.”

Tony pauses for a moment, tilts his head to recapture Loki’s attention and asks, “Why? It’s not like you’re stealing from me.”

“That’s _exactly_ what it’s like, Tony,” Loki sighs, and he hooks his arms around Tony’s neck to pull him closer again (Is it manipulation or is it desire, you ask? Why do you think there’s a difference?), “I don’t deserve anything from you.”

Tony starts to shake his head before Loki’s even finished speaking, says, “No, no, no, no, no. You deserve the _world_ from me, Loki.”

Loki squeezes his eyes shut with a grimace, half-whines, “But I’m always hurting you–”

His arguing is cut short when Tony presses him back up against the door ( _fuck_ ) – forcing his eyes open as he does – puts his lips to his ear and says, “Don’t do that. I hate it when you do that.”

Loki would definitely have a lot more bite in his voice when he says, “That’s what I’m talking about,” if Tony weren’t smoothing his hands down his sides and around his back, aka – mercilessly reducing his limbs to gelatin. Always count on Tony to take every single ounce of ire out of him.

“ _Come on_ , Loki,” Tony pleads in a high, keening tone, turning the full force of what has to be the most intense and _adorable_ pout Loki’s ever seen on him, “Take it for me.”

Loki scrutinizes Tony with stony eyes, trying to detach himself from the awesome persuasive power of his friend’s hands, voice, and expression. He isn’t very successful, to be honest.

“Fine,” Loki eventually breathes, and it’s hard for him to _not_ be amused and enamored with the way Tony’s face splits into this thrilled, childlike grin of epic proportions. Maybe accepting this whatever _is_ a good idea (that doesn’t stop Loki from feeling like a greedy bitch, though, never mind that he isn’t actually asking for anything besides nothing at all).

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” Tony exclaims, and he wraps his arms around Loki’s middle and lifts him completely off the ground, kissing his jaw just a few million times and showering him with affection of the best sort – the _innocent_ sort. Loki can’t help but laugh at the gesture (because it’s a bit ironic, in a completely humorous and not at all pathetic way, that _Tony’s_ the one doing the thanking in this situation).

“If it makes you that happy, you’re welcome,” Loki replies as Tony sets him back on his feet and starts, clearly eager, towards his bedroom. He follows after his friend with a renewed sense of enthusiasm, smoothing his hair down out of habit (because messy tresses are one of the many things that will drive Loki absolutely _insane_ ).

“Remember that CD you asked me to burn for you forever ago?” Tony asks. Loki stops in the doorway of the man’s bedroom, watching Tony sift through the grand mess that is his desk.

“No…?” he answers after briefly combing his memory. Loki’s only thinking back about a couple of weeks, but by _forever_ , Tony could mean from between three days to a whole two months ago. Which is _crazy_ , but _Tony’s_ crazy, am I right?

“That’s understandable,” Tony laughs, turning to face Loki and holding one of those unnecessarily colorful, store-bought vinyl CD cases in his hand. Loki moves closer, his interest piqued, as Tony says, “Sorry for taking so long.”

“I’d worry if you _didn’t_ take a million years,” Loki hums in reply, and he takes the CD from Tony to examine it for a moment. He’s about an inch and a half from totally losing his shit when he reads what Tony’s scrawled across the front.

It’s _perfect_.

“We’re listening to it. Now,” Loki insists, immediately going for Tony’s computer. He sits (very uncharacteristically, considering his perfect posture) on the edge of the man’s desk chair as he busies himself with clicking the monitor to life. Then he’s challenged with the _Lock_ screen, which is almost like a _fuck you_ from the universe in the face of his excitement.

“What’s the password?” Loki asks as Tony presses up flush against his back. He lifts his head to appraise his friend with a highly-satisfied expression, grins when Tony slides his fingers on top of his own and guides them over the keyboard.

“It’s _Loki_ ,” Tony says with a small chuckle, and the answer is both perplexing and delightful.

“As in, my name?” Loki questions, just to be certain. After all, he doesn’t want to look any more selfish than he does already (even though asking probably accomplishes portraying that image much better than simply typing his name in would).

“ _No_ ,” Tony replies, bending over Loki’s shoulder to type, with both of their fingers, _low-key_. He smirks, says, “Like that.”

“Oh, how clever you are,” Loki jokes as he hits the enter key, leaning down to press open the disk tray (the computer’s hard drive is under the desk) and place the CD inside it. Tony drapes his arms around his shoulders, nuzzles behind his ear and down his neck with a tiny purr.

And you know, Tony’s actually _really_ good at this whole _get in my bed and be my boyfriend_ sort of thing. What makes him even better at it is the fact that his bed is only about _five feet_ away right now. For fucking serious.

“Thank you, Tony,” Tony says pointedly, and Loki laughs at the obvious sarcasm and accusation in the man’s voice. He slips an arm over his head and behind him to rub Tony’s shoulder.

“ _Thank you_ ,” Loki drones, turning to smile at his friend, “I love it.” And he does, almost enough to make him forget about how he _isn’t_ supposed to have even taken it in the first place. The world just works in odd ways sometimes, don’t you think?

“I love _you_ ,” Tony croons in reply, quickly moving to capture Loki’s lips in a firm kiss. He nips and nudges his way down the man’s chin, his neck, and Loki’s not sure whether he should enjoy or reject this. Everything inside him but his rationality is screaming _enjoy it enjoy it_ , and while that may be pretty substantial, you have to consider that Loki relies rather heavily on his judgment. Unfortunately.

Loki’s about to say something in protest (fucking _logic_ , always getting in the way when he wants to have _fun_ ), but Tony is suddenly swiveling the desk chair around and getting to his knees in front of it, and Loki is honest to God thinking _Holy shit, is he going to propose to me?_. A noise that’s half-surprised, half-pleasured escapes him when Tony leans over his lap and sucks a kiss against the base of his throat, and holy _crap_ – what _what **what the fuck is going on?**_ (Too much. For both of them.)

“ _Tony_ , wait,” Loki says. He grasps at Tony’s collarbone with one hand, uses the other to grip the man’s chin and force him to meet his eyes. Tony’s gaze is unfocused and dazed, and for a second, Loki’s afraid that the man is… well, that he’s _high_. The thought almost sends him into a rage.

But _no_. No, no, no. Tony wouldn’t do something so stupid. He knows better. Of course.

“What, Tony?” Loki finds himself asking, and it’s almost surprising (to him) that he’s not bitching or freaking out right now. “What’s the matter?” Because something _is_ the matter. Something _has_ to be the matter.

Remember how Loki usually doesn’t fret whenever he sees a touch of melancholy in Tony’s eyes, mostly because it’s always there? Now is not usual. Now, Loki is seriously starting to worry, and Tony’s watching him so wistfully, and the air between them is painful in the way it’s unnecessary, and oh God, _something’s. Fucking. **Wrong**_. There’s no feasible reason for why Tony would be acting the way he is (if there is one, Loki’s either too blind or too afraid to see it).

Tony stares at him for a moment, and his gradual coming back to himself is almost painfully apparent in the way his eyes get harder, deeper, in the way the tension in his body fizzles out like a circuit shorting. Loki scowls.

“Tony, you’re scaring me…” Loki starts to say, but the words in his throat all but evaporate when Tony makes this frustrated noise, gripping his hands tightly and threading their fingers together. It’s a grounding action, saying clearly and loudly _hold on, this is going to be rough_. And that frightens the _shit_ out of Loki (once a coward, always a coward).

“It’s just that–” Tony begins a bit snippily, and then he’s taking this abrupt pause, his eyes rolling back and his mouth screwing up. Loki tenses, alarmed, before Tony practically blurts, “I really, really, _really_ fucking love you, okay? Like, I’m _in love_ with you, Loki.”

Loki’s eyes go wide and round with _shockfearawe_ , because even though he _knows_ this, has _been_ knowing it for a long time, there’s something distinctly different and unsettling about hearing Tony voice his feelings so candidly. Loki is speaking out of what could only be classified as involuntary distress when he starts babbling, “I know, Tony, you don’t have to–”

“ _Wait_ ,” Tony cuts him off sharply, squeezing Loki’s hands hard enough to make him flinch ( _ouch_ , Tony; Loki’s delicate, remember?), “Let me say this. Because I’m probably not going to be able to later.”

Loki swallows thickly, managing to nod despite the fact that his whole _being_ is defying this. He doesn’t want to hear _any_ of this; he’s not ready yet.

Tony brushes his thumbs against Loki’s palms, probably to calm him down or whatever, says, “This is insane. _I’m_ insane, you’re making me that way, and I don’t know how much longer I can do this.”

Loki bites down hard on his bottom lip so that he can’t disrupt Tony, because _goddamn_ , does he want to apologize/complain/yell/cry/ _something_ at his friend’s words. Imagine how it feels to find out that _you’re_ the reason your best friend/borderline significant other is practically on the edge of sanity.

“This is hard,” Tony breathes, and a small, bitter chuckle hooks at the end of his statement, “And I mean that about both _what_ I’m saying and that I’m _saying_ it. I’m struggling here, Loki.”

Loki can’t help but break his silence to ask, “What do you want me to do about that?” So much for self-control.

Tony’s body goes momentarily rigid at the question, and his brow furrows a bit. He says, like it should be completely obvious (and it is), “Well, I want you to give me a chance.”

Loki doesn’t know how to react to that, never mind that he was totally expecting Tony’s answer. So, like he does in response to almost anything he can’t talk or charm his way into fixing (as if he needs to _fix_ what Tony had to say, _ugh_ ), he smiles and laughs like the jackass he is. It’s not the best reaction, but Tony’s perfectly aware of what it means (thank God for that).

Tony’s face takes on a slightly confused expression, and he shifts his weight from one knee to the other as he asks, “What? Is it _me?_ Because I can be whatever you wa–”

Loki’s laughter quickly disappears then; the very last thing he wants is for Tony to _change_ (do you know how _dreadful_ it would be if he did that?). His smile softens a bit as he shakes his head, frames Tony’s face with his hands and interrupts him with, “ _Stop it_. I love you exactly how you are, you dolt.”

Tony looks simultaneously elated with and thrown by Loki’s answer. He laughs, only slightly forced, “What’s stopping you, then? And don’t say you’re scared, because if you do, I’m seriously going to scream.”

With an unintentionally irritated sigh, Loki releases Tony and leans back in his chair, replies, “Then I don’t have anything to say, Tony."

“ _Lokiii…_ ” Tony whines, and he lays his head in Loki’s lap and slumps down on his haunches, frustration and helplessness evident in the line of his body, in the curve of his spine. It makes Loki feel fucking horrible, seeing his friend so desperate (and being the only one to blame for that). And people wonder how it’s possible for him to have such low self-esteem (it’s because he’s always fucking things up, _like this_ ).

Actually, this is a spectacular example of _why_ Loki’s so afraid to just acquiesce to Tony’s pleas. Do you see the mess he’s making right now? He’s not even _trying_ to screw things up, and that’s all he seems to be succeeding at doing ( _of course_ ). Everything he does is a mistake, an accident, a crash, a wrong turn.

Loki sighs, says, “Tell me to go, okay? Kick me out. I don’t want to keep hurting you.” And he doesn’t. To be scathingly honest, Loki would much prefer it if Tony let go of him and saved himself than if he continued to welcome disappointment – he’s preferred such an alternative since the day they met. Loki’s aware that separation would probably be a slow, painful death sentence to Tony, but he _also_ knows that if his friend is good at anything, it’s forgetting and moving on.

“No,” Tony retorts, voice muted and low. He gets to his feet like a limp, lifeless marionette, and Loki feels somewhat mechanical as he lets the man pull his hands away (Lord knows he’d rather keep holding on).

Loki watches, only a little (lot) heartbroken, as Tony walks around the chair to throw himself on his bed. And do know what makes this situation even _shittier_ (because there is always room for worse, and no reason why there shouldn’t be)?:

The fact that Tony’s really _not_ as upset with Loki as he should be. The fact that he’s most likely blaming _himself_ for the crappiness of this whole thing. The fact that Loki’s only holding back _for_ Tony, not in spite of him, and the fact that he really can’t tell him this without giving away too much information, too soon.

So what does Loki do now? He definitely didn’t come here to make a mess of his relationship with Tony, and isn’t it grand that that’s _exactly_ what he’s doing? _Wonderful_ , I say.

After taking a moment to consider his options, Loki quickly and efficiently pulls up Tony’s media player and puts the CD, _his_ CD ( _oh yes_ ), on. As soon as music, sweet and timeless (the very _best_ kind of music, in Loki’s opinion), starts flowing from the speakers, he rises from his seat and crawls into Tony’s bed beside his friend. And before you ask, he actually _does_ know what he’s doing (contrary to popular belief).

Tony’s eyes slide like soap slowly slipping down glass to regard Loki. There’s only a hint of question in the way he looks at him, in the way one of his eyebrows angles only slightly, but his gaze is mostly just mildly interested. He doesn’t say anything.

Loki smiles a bit at Tony, moves to straddle his friend’s thighs and laughs quietly when Tony’s apathetic eyes go suddenly, comically wide and confused. Placing a light, gentle hand on Tony’s abdomen, Loki gives a pacifying shake of his head and murmurs, “Calm down. We can do this, remember?”

Tony watches him hawkishly, grumbles, “You’re not helping me, Loki.”

Loki’s smirk turns wry and sour when Tony says that. He changes his position so that he’s laying flat against Tony’s front, crosses his arms over the man’s chest and props his chin up on them. He says, “I’m sorry. You know I’m not trying to.”

Tony makes this horrible face that’s both amused and vexed, replies, “Yeah. Yeah, I know.”

“Tony, talk to me,” Loki sort of-kind of _pleads_ , scowling deeply, “You’re not going to kick me out, so say something nice.”

“Of course I’m not kicking you out…” Tony sighs, and Loki starts a bit when he feels the man’s hand rest at the base of his back, possessive and saying _stay here, don’t go_. Tony is silent for a few moments, just staring at the ceiling, and Loki knows better than to rush him. That would be an awful move.

And then Tony says, “I’m not saying that you should because of my birthday – I’m not saying that _at all_ , but it would probably be the best present in the _world_ if you went out with me.”

Loki hums, pleased and flawlessly unaffected as he drawls, “ _Okay_ …”

“And you can totally disregard that I’m gonna be twenty-one in a week,” Tony rambles on, his gaze still fixed overhead, “Because I just want you… I want you to think about it for–”

“For you?” Loki cuts him off, raising an eyebrow as if to say _Right?_ , because Tony does have a tendency to mask his own desires in what walks, talks, and sounds like altruism (not to call the man out on his bullshit or anything).

“Yes!” Tony laughs at first, but then his face is screwing up and he’s shaking his head, looking at Loki and saying, “Wait, no. For _you_ , not for me.”

Loki rolls his eyes in a way that manages not to be insolent, argues, “Tony, I do enough things for myself. I’m probably one of the most selfish people you know.”

“ _You_ think you are,” Tony says pointedly, and Loki is secretly thrilled with the way the man’s expression takes on an uplifted quality (cue mental fist-pump), “Loki, you can be incredibly selfless.”

“ _Self-deprecating_ ,” Loki corrects, nestling his cheek into the curve of his arms, “There’s a difference, love.”

Tony’s eyes light up at the pet-name ( _oh God_ , that’s just an amazing sight), and he chuckles, “Whatever.”

“No, _not_ whatever,” Loki retorts. His voice is hard and insistent, but he’s grinning as he speaks. Tony’s eyes briefly reel back in an exaggerated demonstration of aggravation, and Loki laughs outright at the display.

“What I’m _trying to say_ _is_ , I _love_ you, and don’t think about me, okay? Even if I _am_ guilt-tripping you like there’s no tomorrow,” Tony says somewhat breathlessly. He gives Loki a hint of a smirk, raises his head completely off of his pillow to see him better. Loki returns the smile.

“Alright, Tony,” he easily replies, leans forward to briefly touch his lips to Tony’s in a not-quite kiss before leisurely rolling onto his side. Loki relaxes against the mattress like it’s his own, and Tony sits up to peer down at him. After a beat of comfortable silence, Loki asks, “What?”

“You’re real nice to look at,” Tony says, crossing his legs. His eyes sweep the length of Loki’s body, and it’s just a little hilarious that Tony can go from _you’re driving me crazy because I love yooouuu_ to _damn, you’re fine_ in about five seconds flat.

“I’ve heard,” Loki purrs with a touch of sarcasm, enjoying the way Tony impishly bugs his eyes at him. He buries his face in the pillow beneath his head and stretches, catlike and flirtatious and just the way Tony likes, because it’s totally possible for the two of them to be passionate, dramatic, and playful all within the same hour. They’re odd and perfect like that.

“Get ugly or something,” Tony abruptly admonishes, and Loki just _can’t_ contain the cackling, unadulterated laugh that escapes him. Tony chuckles a bit, leans over Loki to talk and kiss into his hair, “You’re too fucking pretty.”

“I’m _not_ pretty,” Loki protests half-heartedly, curling up a bit, “That’s such a gendered adjective, Tony.” And really, they might as well be dating already with the way they’re acting (which is like a couple of high school sweethearts – completely infatuated with one another). The only things separating them from that class are fear, seven days, Thor and Steve, and their relationship statuses on Facebook.

“Okay, how about gorgeous?” Tony tries, hugging against Loki’s side, “Or beautiful? Or sexy?”

“ _Stoooppp_ ,” Loki groans, and he keeps his face hidden, “You’re going to make me start hemorrhaging.”

“I’m just being truthful!” Tony insists with a laugh, “Which is, like, _phenomenal_ for me.”

Loki hums in something like agreement, wriggling in Tony’s embrace to look at the man. He smirks upon seeing the bright expression on his friend’s face, quips, “Well, hello there.”

Tony grins, nuzzles their noses together in a way that’s _far_ too mushy and romantic for their relationship to be some kind of normal (which is both positive and negative – positive because it implies that _holy fuck, this actually means something_ , since you don’t see Tony nuzzling or cooing over anybody else; negative because confusion and misunderstanding are givens), and says, “Hi.”

Loki stifles a laugh and listens to the music playing, asks, only a bit (yeah, _right_ ) out of the blue, “Can I tell you a story?”

Tony looks a bit taken aback at the question at first (Can you blame him? It was random as fuck.), but soon he’s releasing Loki and rolling on his side as well, replying, “Go ahead. I like stories.”

“Good,” Loki says, turning his head to look at Tony as he speaks, “This song just reminded me of something for whatever reason.”

“Do tell,” Tony drawls, and he rubs his head against his pillow in an almost canine manner. It’s a little funny to watch.

Loki moves to run a hand through his hair, briefly mulling over the memory at the forefront of his mind before just saying, “Thor used to dress me in our parents’ clothes.”

Tony huffs a laugh and asks, “Both parents?” Like that means something when you’re children.

Loki smiles, replies, “ _Yes_. Whenever we were bored, he’d drag me around and dress me up.”

**_He’s nine years-old. Very shy. Natural pessimist. Mopey._ **

**_Thor keeps telling him to hold still, but Loki doesn’t want to. Right about now, he could be in the kitchen with Mother, and she could be showing him how to bake macaroni and cheese, and he could be happy and undisturbed and in his own clothing. That would be nice, right?_ **

**_But_ nooo _, of course Thor’s the one having fun and getting his way. Thor always gets to do what he wants. Thor’s always smiling. Thor’s always satisfied. Never Loki._**

**_His young mind keeps telling him there should be a reason_ why _he’s always so frustrated and cranky, but his logic is too limited at this point to find it yet._**

“It’s probably because I always wanted more of this, more of that,” Loki says, “More love, more sleep, more alone time, more books, more quiet, more, more, _more_.”

“And you never got it,” Tony muses.

Loki smirks bitterly, asks, “Have I ever stopped being greedy?”

**_“Put your arms up,” Thor demands, waving the_ Ramones _t-shirt in his hands like a war flag. Loki pouts. Shit, he doesn’t_ want _to put his fucking arms up._**

**_“Put your own arms up,” Loki retorts, and he’s doing the heavy-browed, pouty-lip thing he does whenever he’s trying to gain sympathy. It doesn’t work on anyone but Thor and Freya._ **

**_Thor ceases his movements and frowns, pokes Loki in the center of his narrow, pale chest. Loki yelps as Thor pleads, “Come on, Loki. Just for a minute.”_ **

**_“Nooo…” Loki whines, and he casts his face to the ground, defiant and unwilling. He actually thinks that Thor’s fallen prey to his wiles when the boy doesn’t respond for a few moments, but that assumption is quickly proven wrong when he’s having a t-shirt unceremoniously_ shoved _over his head._ Thorrrr.**

**_“Stop it!” Loki wails, wrestling against the sea of cotton he’s drowning in. Thor makes a frustrated noise and grabs at Loki’s shoulders, and honestly, that only makes Loki feel even more helpless and aggravated._ **

**_“Calm down and put your arms in the sleeves!” Thor orders roughly, and Loki really,_ really _hates Thor’s bossy voice. It scares the fuck out of him._**

**_“They’re_ my _arms, Thor!” Loki cries, but he’s following his brother’s instructions like a puppet that can’t help but do what its master commands. Of course._**

“Are you saying that Thor has been controlling you since you were this big?” Tony asks abruptly, and he holds his index finger and thumb about an inch apart in demonstration.

“Technically, yes,” Loki says, “Except back then, it was like _oh, that’s just Thor’s personality and I’m his little brother, why should I care?_. Now, it’s _I’m my own goddamn person, so get the fuck, Thor_.”

“But that doesn’t make it okay that he bullied you,” Tony argues. Is it odd (sad) that Loki both agrees and disagrees with him?

“It _was_ okay, though,” Loki sighs, “Because it wasn’t wrong when we were children. It was just _Thor’s the ringleader and Loki’s his assistant_ , you know? _Thor leads and Loki follows. Thor’s the loud, Loki’s the soft. Thor’s yang, Loki’s yin._ That’s all it was, Tony. Now it’s _Thor is a junior and a linebacker and he’s got a fucked-up relationship with Sif and he crashed his car when he was eighteen and he’s popular as fuck and he’s got a bossy streak and he happens to be older and living in Loki’s house_ , while _Loki’s a sophomore and he works at a library and he loves his best friend and he happened to be in that accident and he’s also got bipolar disorder and a flair for the dramatic and won’t take your bullshit_. Do you see what I mean?”

Tony is smiling as he questions, “So things are more complex because you’re older?”

“ _Yes_ ,” Loki breathes, “That’s _exactly_ what I’m saying.”

**_Thor is in the closet again, and Loki_ really _feels like he’s going to cry. Great. In a feeble attempt to distract himself, he focuses his attention on the television facing the bed. The volume is low and there’s what looks like one of those silly soap operas Mother loves so much on it. And suddenly, Loki remembers how he could be watching_ Ed, Edd n’ Eddy _right now. Oh God._**

“I loved that show,” Tony exclaims. Loki leans over and kisses Tony to shut him up.

**_Thor emerges from the abyss with a pair of pants that look like they could just swallow Loki whole (not to mention that they’d probably blind the fuck out of you in the Sun with all their luster). The boy starts to say whatever, and Loki really doesn’t care, but the next thing he knows, he’s staring at Thor and his brother looks like he’s about to part the Red Sea or something. Uhm, what?_ **

**_“Loki, you can’t always cry like that!” Thor fusses, moving over to the bed and dragging the pants he’s holding along the carpet as he does. He gets really angry every time Loki starts to tear up, and Loki doesn’t get why. He loves his brother to death, but fuck if he understands him yet._ **

“Why the fuck would you get pissed off with someone for crying?” Tony asks a bit testily. The look on his face suggests that he already knows the answer to that question, though.

“Thor doesn’t know how to deal with negative emotions,” Loki replies, “One of the first things I ever learned how to do was face my feelings, and Thor _still_ hasn’t gotten around to attending that class. That’s why he freaks out every time I get upset or start crying, why when he gets angry he gets murderous, and why if he isn’t satisfied or occupied in some way, he’ll turn irrational and hyperactive. My psychology professor calls it Barney syndrome.”

Tony laughs a little, questions, “Why _Barney_ syndrome?”

“You know how on the TV show, everything and everyone is always wonderful and carefree and happy-go-lucky to the point of _oh my God, kill me now before I start shitting rainbows_?” Loki asks, and when Tony nods, he points out, “They always show you how to have fun and be optimistic, but never what to do if things actually go wrong. If there’s a problem, you have to fix it right away. It’s impossible to be unhappy. That’s why people who have Barney syndrome can only handle the good; never the bad."

“Clever,” Tony hums, and Loki allows himself to smile.

**_Loki scrubs a bit at his eyes with the heel of his palm, says, “Sometimes I can’t help it, Thor. Not everyone is a brick wall.”_ **

**_Thor pushes Loki’s hands away from his face to wipe his eyes himself. He grumbles, “You have to_ try _not to do that, though. That’s not cool.”_**

“Did you stop?” Tony asks.

“No,” Loki answers, quiet, “I was always too myself to ever do that. Unfortunately.”

Tony doesn’t say anything in response, but he gives Loki this look that’s upset and incredulous and reassuring all at once. Loki accepts the kiss he receives.

**_Loki is silent and still as Thor cleans his cheeks. He watches his brother as he works, blinks only when Thor’s thumbs brush a little too close to his eyes._ **

**_“You gonna to quit whining?” Thor asks once he’s done, and the way he voices the question is both assertive and concerned. Loki hates it when Thor and Mother do that; it makes it really fucking hard to be terribly miffed by them._ **

**_“Sure,” Loki says with an air of resignation, and he nods at the pants in Thor’s hand and inquires, “Are you going to make me put those on?”_ **

**_Thor hesitates, and the pause is miraculous and amazing and_ oh so good _because of how very rare it can be. Loki smiles cryptically as Thor retorts, a bit morosely, “Will you do it?”_**

**_Loki slides off of the edge of the bed and grabs the silver (_ silver _) pants from his brother, stepping into them and mumbling, “It couldn’t hurt.”_**

“ _Silver_ pants?!” Tony interjects, and he bursts into laughter that’s equally ridiculous and amazing in its fervor.

“It was… 2001 when this happened, Tony,” Loki points out, pausing when he has to make some mental calculations, “Mother was thirty-three when I was born, so that means she grew up during the sixties and seventies. Remember what fashion was like back then?”

“Yeah, fucking _ridiculous_ ,” Tony replies, cackling almost uncontrollably (and over _silver pants_ ).

“ _Tonyyy_ ,” Loki whines, poking his friend’s side, “We were kids, and Mother’s very sentimental. I bet you if I looked, I could still find those pants in her closet.”

“Oh my _God_ , we have to go apprehend them and like, make a shrine or something,” Tony says, and Loki laughs wholeheartedly at the idea, “ _Or_ , we could frame them and have shared custody of the pants, and we’d each have a week with them, and–”

“Tony, _stop_ ,” Loki chokes through his laughter, grabbing at his friend’s hand and squeezing. This is why his life would have been much better if only he’d met Tony earlier.

**_“They don’t fit,” Thor notes as Loki hugs as much of the pants’ waistband as he can around his stomach. Loki makes a face at Thor._ **

**_“Oh, really? I never noticed,” he snarks. Loki learned how to use sarcasm when he was eight. It’s worked out spectacularly for him since then._ **

**_Thor glares and tramples back into the closet for a belt, grumbling, “Momma says it’s not nice when you talk like that.”_ **

**_“But her and Father do it all the time,” Loki objects, “And it’s not like_ you _always follow the rules.”_**

**_Thor doesn’t say anything in response, but he makes his harrumphing, elephantine noise that sounds a lot like grudging acquiescence to Loki (aww yeah). Loki stands awkwardly in his silver sea of fabric for a few minutes, grasping at his waistband and trying to cover his butt, and_ God _, he feels extraordinarily stupid. It’s amazing how easily Thor can do that to him._**

**_After about a million years of discomfort and aggravation, Thor_ finally _emerges from the closet with a belt._**

“Don’t laugh,” Loki orders. Tony tenses.

**_A lime green pyramid belt, complete with an ugly-ass turquoise, flower-shaped buckle covered in sparkles. Always count on Thor to pick the stupidest shit in the whole closet._ **

“Holy shit…” Tony whimpers, nearly gnawing a hole through his lip so that he doesn’t say much further.

**_“Thor, that’s horrible,” Loki complains, but Thor’s already shoving the horrendous article at him. The fluorescent green/glittery turquoise combination makes Loki want to both vomit and claw his own eyes out._ **

**_“It’s colorful,” Thor argues, waving the belt around some to get Loki to take it from him, “Don’t rock stars wear colorful stuff?”_ **

**_“Yeah, but things can be colorful without being ugly,” Loki says, and he’s trying to maneuver the piece-of-shit belt into the pants’ belt loops. It’s a hard task to accomplish when the waistband is acting like a fucking snake and the belt has a million silver studs being very pokey and obstructive on it._ **

**_“You think everything is ugly,” Thor insists somewhat matter-of-factly, moving closer to help Loki out. And when I say_ help out _, I mean_ slap Loki’s hands out of the way so he can do it himself _. Loki doesn’t mind (things always turn out better when Thor’s the one doing them anyways)._**

“That’s not true,” Tony cuts in.

“I used to think so,” Loki throws back, “Shut up and listen, you.”

**_“Rock stars aren’t ugly,” Loki retorts, rerouting the conversation to his liking because he knows Thor’s too one track-minded to care or realize the change. He picks at the oversized clothing adorning his body, scowls at the tacky, hideous belt holding it all together._ **

**_“That guy with the tongue is, though,” Thor laughs. He looks Loki up and down like an artist appraising his work, searching for flaws in his design._ **

“Gene Simmons?” Tony asks. Loki makes this growling, irritated noise that quickly renders Tony silent.

**_“Am I too lame for you?” Loki asks in a dull voice. He feels like the Scarecrow on_ The Wizard of Oz _, both because of his foolish appearance and the sensation of ill balance he gets every time he moves even slightly._**

**_“Yeah. You need something else,” Thor replies, insensitive and blunt as usual, and he disappears into the closet again, leaving an exasperated and nervous Loki in his wake. When he comes back, he’s handling a pair of large, red sunglasses and a fedora with a peacock feather pinned to the hatband._ **

“ _What_ , Tony?” Loki sighs when said man nudges his side, childishly raising his hand for permission to speak.

“You might think this is a stupid question, but I swear to God it’s actually _really_ important…” Tony prefaces, and Loki can’t help but groan and roll his eyes.

“Just ask me,” Loki snaps, turning onto his side to face his friend.

Tony smiles a bit, questions, “Where the fuck do your parents buy their clothes? Because I’d like to shop at _that_ store if you know what I mean.”

Loki glares at Tony for a moment, prompting the man to laugh. He chooses not to answer.

**_“Pick one,” Thor orders, holding the items out for Loki’s inspection. It doesn’t take long for Loki to make his decision._ **

**_“Hat,” he says, and Thor automatically stuffs the fedora onto his head, jumbling the already untidy mess of curls there. Loki whines quietly in discomfort, pushes the brim back on his forehead and watches as Thor dons the sunglasses he holds. And of course they look a lot better on Thor than anything Loki’s wearing does on him. Loki’s actually pretty sure that if they switched clothing, Thor wouldn’t look half as bizarre or awkward as he._ **

**_“Wait!” Thor exclaims, pushing the fedora’s brim so far down that Loki’s only allowed a crescent of vision, “Rock stars wear their hats like that.”_ **

**_Loki frowns, complains, “But I can’t see anything.”_ **

**_“Why would you need to see when all you’re going to be doing is singing?” Thor asks, quite rhetorically, but Loki’s a critical little shit that loves to be logical in the face of his brother’s intuition._ **

**_“I’m not going to be singing, Thor,” Loki says, pushing his hat up enough for him to be able to see clearly, but not so much that Thor has a fit (because he_ would _), “And if I was, I’d need to be able to see my stage and my microphone and my band and my audience, don’t you think?”_**

**_Thor makes a face and shrugs, and it’s the closest thing to agreement that Loki’s going to get from him, because Thor never ever_ ever _admits a wrong. He could have all the evidence in the world stacked against him and he’d remain steadfast and completely assured with his faultlessness._**

“That’s one of the reasons I can’t stand Thor most of the time,” Loki says, “Mostly because it’s annoying as hell when I can’t convince the idiot that he’s wrong, but also because I can never be as sure of myself as he is.”

“Makes sense,” Tony acknowledges, and he brings his arm up to rest underneath his head.

Loki smiles a bit, but not out of happiness. You know _that_ smile, the one that’s slightly involuntary and isn’t supposed to mean much of anything besides _goodbye, the end, it’s over, go home_? That’s the one. He half-murmurs, “That’s it, I guess. I mean, nothing interesting happened after that.”

Tony just watches him for a few moments, silent and wistful, and it’s almost scary/safe the way Loki feels vulnerable/secure under the man’s gaze. Then Tony’s wiggling closer to him, saying, “Tell me another story.”

Loki hums, asks, “And if I end up going through my whole childhood?”

“That’d be great, actually,” Tony laughs, and Loki really loves the man’s eye-crinkling, cheek-dimpling smiles a whole fucking lot.

“What time is it?” Loki questions, raising his head off of his pillow and searching the room for a clock he knows isn’t there.

“It doesn’t matter,” Tony sighs, draws Loki’s eyes back to him, “Don’t think about that.”

“I have homework and a brother to take care of, Tony,” Loki points out, and he moves to sit cross-legged on the mattress, “It’s not terribly late right now,” he nods to the window; the sky is still light, but it’s taking on an orangey-pink tinge, “… but I can’t stay here all night because we’ve lost track of time.”

Tony makes this whiney, groaning noise and sits up as well, nosing into Loki’s face a lot like a child would. He moans, “I really wish you would, though.”

Loki smiles, a real smile this time, says, “I know. I want to, too, but things don’t always work out that way, do they?”

And really, the part of him that’s being deliberately ignorant of the fact that Tony will most likely find a way to get him in bed in the most non-literal, figurative, suggestive sense, even if it takes all night long, actually _does_ want to stay. But Loki vowed the very first day he set foot on campus that he wouldn’t let himself be distracted from his education by anything _at all_ so long as he was a student at EU.

Then again, he didn’t know Tony Stark or how comfortable his bed is on his first day of college.

Tony pouts, much like he did at the door (dammit, Tony, stop being so cute), argues, “It’s just _one_ day, Loki. Thor can’t do _that_ much damage, and your psychology professor can’t be as terrible as you say he is.”

Loki’s making these ridiculously skeptical faces as Tony spews that load of bullshit, and as soon as the man’s done, he starts to prove his point with, “First of all, one day is also called twenty-four hours; keyword, _hours_. Got it?"

Tony nods.

“Those are hours of class time I can’t afford to lose, Tony,” Loki says, “I’m going to be a psychologist someday, but I’m not going to get there by being truant, just like _you_ won’t earn a degree or your father’s position by spending all day in bed with me.” Tony’s looking at him with this hangdog expression that’s so intense Loki wants to _die_ , so Loki adds, “And as much as I love you and would rather spend weeks upon weeks just in _your_ company,” (he’s not exaggerating), “I can’t. That’s life.”

“Life sucks,” Tony says rather ineloquently, and Loki feels an upward tug at the corners of his mouth.

“Secondly, Thor can do a world of damage,” Loki goes on, and he feels almost silly saying this, simply because it’s so obvious, “Have you heard about the accident? And would you like to see the mess inside my head? And don’t you remember the case of the missing food?”

“I get it, I get it,” Tony laughs, scratching at the back of his head.

“ _Thirdly_ , you have no idea what it’s like in Professor Doom’s classroom,” Loki insists, and he can literally feel his body locking up at the mere thought of his psychology class, “Every time I walk in there, I actually have to physically force myself to calm down.”

“It’s _that_ horrible?” Tony asks, and while the question is obviously concerned, he voices it like he doubts Loki’s claims.

“One time the man had us all write a secret about ourselves on a slip of paper and put it into a hat,” Loki says, “Then he’d read each secret to the whole class and have us ‘psychoanalyze’ the supposed writer. The worst thing about it was that he knew who wrote what based on their handwriting.”

Tony’s frowning as he questions, “Well what did everyone say about you?”

“They said I was self-loathing and had a type A personality, which is totally accurate but a bitch to hear from your classmates,” Loki replies, “And Professor Doom said I was a narcissist.”

Tony’s eyes widen, and his lip curls a bit as he says, “That’s fucking horrible.”

“And also true,” Loki points out. The look Tony gives him is kind of hilarious in its absurdity.

“Explain please, because I’m not following your… _logic_ ,” Tony requests, propping his elbow against his knee and resting his jaw in his hand in a way that’s impossibly dejected.

“After I thought really hard about what Professor Doom said, I realized that you don’t have to be an egotistical jackass to be considered a narcissist,” Loki explains, “Because… because of the way I grew up and the way I always felt like I was neglected or passed over, I feel like I’m constantly denied affection that I supposedly deserve; so much that I care about my feelings and my happiness more so than that of other people. And isn’t that what a narcissist is?”

The explanation seems pretty damn admirable when Loki’s telling it to himself, to be honest. When he’s relaying it to someone else, though, it just sounds like absolute self-defense and _oh my God I’m not really an asshole because I have awesome excuses_. Which is exactly what Loki’s trying _not_ to say. Fuck.

But Tony gets this enlightened expression on his face and nods, slowly says, “Yeah…”

Because Loki just loves to hear himself talk ( _ha_ ), he elaborates, “Narcissism doesn’t have to be about self-love. It just has to be about self-centeredness, and I’m _very_ self-centered.”

“I understand your point,” Tony says, moves to poke Loki’s stomach, “But that still doesn’t mean I’m necessarily letting you out of this house tonight.”

And of course Tony would do something crazy like that. Loki really doesn’t put it past the man to prevent him from going home or tie him to the bed or something similarly outrageous.

But, instead of replying to his comment, Loki smiles and asks, “Shall I be telling you that story, now?”

Loki uses diversion. It’s super effective!

“Unh-huh,” Tony hums eagerly, moving to face Loki and cradling his head in his hands. Loki takes a moment to conjure a memory.

**_He’s still nine years-old, but it’s a whole season later, and he’s exchanged some of his mopeyness for a whole lot of snark. It’s the beginning of a wonderful and lengthy career in the field of smartassing._ **

**_At this particular moment, it’s nine o’clock (bed time in momlish) on a Friday night, which basically means that he and Thor have taken it upon themselves to completely ignore the rules in favor of doing whatever the fuck they want._ **

**_“I want the fish blanket,” Loki says as Thor bolts, rather noisily,_ fuck _, into the closet. He watches his brother climb on top of the tubs of fabric stacked against the wall and grasp at the blankets on the shelf above their clothes. As something of an afterthought, Loki adds, “Be quiet.”_**

****

**_“Shut up,” Thor sneers, “Momma and Daddy are sleeping.”_ **

****

**_“Mother and Father don’t_ sleep _on Fridays, Thor,” Loki says, ever the know-it-all, “They drink their funny drinks and have grown-up fun.”_**

Tony’s laughing. Loki is, too.

**_“How do you even know that? Do you do it with them?” Thor asks, and it’s kind of funny how suspicious his question is. Like Loki would be so_ traitorous _._**

“You’re hilarious, you know that?” Tony chuckles, grinning wide and amused.

Loki does an extremely theatrical and exaggerated hair-flip that absolutely _murders_ Tony, says, “That’s me.”

**_“No,” Loki replies pointedly, “Don’t be dumb.”_ **

**_“You didn’t answer my first question,” Thor huffs, dropping two comforters to the floor, “How do you know what they do?”_ **

**_“Because I read Mother’s magazines when she accidently leaves them in the bathroom, and I get hungry in the middle of the night,” Loki sighs in a voice that’s incredibly uninterested and disapproving of Thor’s very existence._ **

“Did she read Cosmopolitan and Bust?” Tony asks, and Loki hums with amusement.

“ _Yes_ ,” he answers, “Have you read some of the things in those magazines? They’re awful.”

“No argument there,” Tony laughs.

**_“Those are icky,” Thor says, and Loki quickly assumes that he’s referring to the magazines. He’s going to gather his desired sea-print blanket from the floor when Thor just flings himself from his perch like a goddamn chimpanzee or George of the fucking Jungle, and Loki seriously considers beating his head against the wall when his brother lands, quite stupidly (and_ noisily _) on his front._**

“Do you know those children that think they’re Batman or something, so they’re always doing this dramatic running and jumping and posing everywhere they go?” Loki asks.

Tony smirks a bit sheepishly, says, “I was one of those children, Loki. Until I was eleven, I mean.”

**_“Thor, stop it,” Loki sort of_ pleads _, “Are you hurt?”_**

**_And then Thor shoots up like he didn’t just do a total faceplant, grabs his blanket and says, “Of course I am!”_ **

**_“You’ve got to be quiet, stupid,” Loki bitches (he’s an expert at that) as he moves over to their bunk bed. Sometimes he has to remind himself that he begged for Mother and Father to have a shared room with his brother right along with Thor (admittedly, he was five years old and absolutely inseparable from the boy when he did)._ **

**_“Quiet? I’ve never heard of such a word. What’s it mean?” Thor jokes, and he does this weird, half-barrel roll, half-monkey swing into Loki’s bunk right along with his brother. Thor was quite a rambunctious child._ **

“He still is, actually,” Loki notes.

**_“This,” Loki laughs, moving to clamp both hands down on Thor’s mouth. Thor shrieks against his palms, tries to wrestle his arms away, but Loki’s climbing on top of him and pinning him to the mattress, giggling as quietly as he can (which is pretty quiet, to be honest; Loki never was particularly loud)._ **

“Uhm…” Tony starts to say, and Loki gives the man a quizzical look when he pauses and scratches his head, nervous. And then Loki realizes just _what_ Tony’s thinking (goddamn pervert), and he almost wants to throttle the man.

“We were _nine_ and _ten_ , Anthony Stark,” Loki bites out in a hard, slow voice, reaching over to lightly bop Tony across the forehead, “Sex was the weird, noisy rolling around Mother and Father would do in their bed or what happened when Mother told us to shut our eyes and close our ears whenever we watched TV.”

“I didn’t say anything!” Tony says defensively, but he’s grinning his shit-eating, suggestive, _oh ho ho I see what’s going on here you can’t fool me_ grin.

“You _thought_ it, you ass,” Loki retorts, “That’s depressing, that my best friend would think such thoughts about my brother and I. Don’t you know how children play?”

Tony hesitates for a moment, then says, “You have to remember that I stopped being a kid when I was seven and didn’t have a friend that wasn’t over twenty years older than me until I was in high school.”

Ouch. Way to make Loki feel like shit.

At first, Loki has no earthly idea what to say to that, because even though Tony’s reconciled and dealt with his turbulent feelings about his childhood, or whatever you’d call that awful period of development, Loki _hasn’t_ , and he still worries and boo-hoos over Tony when it comes to that part of his life. That’s a tender nerve to touch for him, even if it isn’t his own.

“Tony…” is all Loki can manage initially. His mind is too full of thoughts of poor neglected, drug-addicted, alcoholic Tony for him to say much else.

“No, no,” Tony deflects, shaking his head and waving his hands like he does when he really doesn’t want to talk about _it_ , whatever _it_ may be, “I shouldn’t have said that. Ignore me. You know how shit just comes out of my mouth and I can’t he–”

“I’ll teach you,” Loki cuts his friend off, moving closer, “I’ll teach you how to play.”

“I _know_ how to play,” Tony sighs. His voice is resigned and quiet, and it’s obvious that the man would rather be talking about _anything_ but _this_ right now. While Loki knows exactly how that feels, he also knows that sometimes it’s better to discuss something than to let it slide, even if it’s like pulling teeth to do so. Remember how much good screaming at Thor did him?

“Just because you know doesn’t mean you’ve done it,” Loki argues, and when Tony starts to speak, he takes a page from his own book and covers the man’s mouth with his hands, pins him to the mattress, and climbs on top of him. Tony raises a brow and mumbles something against his palms. Loki grins.

“What was that?” Loki laughs, moving his hands to frame Tony’s face.

Tony smiles and says, “I’d do anything if it was with you.”

Okay, Tony. Go ahead and turn Loki’s entire being into cherry slushie. That’s cool.

“I’m going to forget my pride and just say that I love you with the passion of a thousand soaring valkyries, Tony,” Loki purrs, leaning back on his haunches and trailing a hand down the side of said man’s face.

“I’ll always love you more,” Tony says very matter-of factly, arching his back with a small smirk. Oh God, _Tony_.

“Shush,” Loki murmurs, leans down to kiss and nuzzle against Tony’s jaw (because this restraint shit is for the birds, man). He hums quietly when Tony rubs his hands up his back, asks, “Where was I?”

“You were molesting Thor,” Tony replies. Loki pinches his cheek with a smirk.

**_Loki’s doing a pretty good job of holding his brother down until Thor swipes his tongue thickly and wetly across his palm._ Yuck _._**

**_“Thor, that’s gross!” Loki cries, a little more loudly than he intends to, hastily crawling off of his brother and scrubbing his hand against his bedsheets. And then he realizes that he’ll have to sleep on that._ Eeewwwww _._**

**_“Your face is gross,” Thor says, moving onto his knees and grabbing his blanket. It’s then when Loki remembers just what they were doing, and suddenly the unsanitary, contaminated, biohazardous state of his sheets is rendered totally unimportant._ **

“Thor and I used to take our comforters and make these ‘hammocks’ with them, see?” Loki explains, “Because the top bunk had these metal bars that would hold the mattress instead of a solid bottom, we could tie shit, like blankets, to them.”

“And they’d support you? The hammocks, I mean.” Tony asks a bit incredulously, palming the side of Loki’s hip. Oh, that feels _good_.

“Until Thor was thirteen and I was twelve, yes,” Loki replies, sliding his arms around Tony’s neck and behind his head, “We’d make them without Mother’s permission, because she was always fussing about how we were going to break the bed or that Thor was going to fall out of his and land on the floor or something. And we’d act like jungle rangers or monkeys until we were barely keeping our eyes open. A lot of times we fell asleep in them.”

“At the risk of sounding like Beavis and Butthead or something, that’s fucking awesome,” Tony says with a smile. Loki returns the expression.

“You know the real hammock in our backyard?” Loki asks, and when Tony nods, he adds, “Mother got it for me after I told her how much I missed the ghetto ones Thor and I made.”

Tony laughs at his word choice, questions, “Do you prefer the _ghetto_ hammock or the proper one?”

“The ghetto one,” Loki hums, “Because that was something that, as far as I knew or know, only Thor and I did. That was our special thing, you know?”

He’s not sentimental. I fucking swear he isn’t.

“Yeah,” is Tony’s quiet, simple answer.

**_Loki climbs into his hammock noiselessly and without a glitch. His knots are perfectly tight, he’s got just enough wiggle room, and there’s the tangible, exhilarating illusion of weightlessness and emptiness beneath him. Wonderful._ **

**_Thor, however, has a bit more of a problem. Because he’s a fatass (Not really, okay? I’ll admit it: that was pretty rude._ Robust _would more accurately describe Thor’s physique.) with the attention span and intelligence of a gnat, his knots come loose as soon as he’s got his butt in his hammock. Uh-huh._**

**_“Do you need some help?” Loki asks, sitting up and peering over the high lip of his blanket. Thor glares at him as if he’d suggested that they don pink and purple princess dresses and ride unicorns to Candyland._ **

**_“_ No _,” Thor says harshly, grabbing the untied end of his comforter and setting to work fastening the bitch to one of the metal bars above him. Well, damn._**

**_And you know, it really does bother Loki a whole fucking lot when Thor acts like he’s not worth anyone’s aid, least of all his own, when Thor looks at him like he’s the stupidest fucking creature to walk the earth, when Thor gets so, so_ angry _so goddamn_ fast _. If Loki’s incapable of doing something as simple and true as helping his brother, what_ can _he do? Really?_**

**_So Loki, stung, turns his back on Thor and curls further into his hammock. He honest to God doesn’t care about playing around or staying up or breaking the rules or any of that fun stuff anymore. He’d rather go to sleep now, because Thor’s so hard to play with after he’s wounded him and_ damn _, does he hurt right now._**

**_Loki listens to the sounds behind him, hears the bed creak as Thor climbs into his hammock. There’s no thump and the bed doesn’t shake, so Thor was obviously successful in constructing his perch this time around. Not quite surprisingly, the knowledge neglects to warm Loki._ **

**_He feels so very cold._ **

**_“Loki?” Thor asks after a moment of silence and inaction, and his voice is without a trace of anger. It’s also lacking in hesitation or concern. Typical._ **

**_“What?” Loki replies quietly, absently picking at his_ Batman _t-shirt. He’s staring hard at a seahorse printed on his blanket, figuring that if he focuses on something apart from his chaotic feelings, he won’t end up doing something stupid and outspoken._**

“Wait…” Tony cuts in, “Since when is being outspoken a bad thing?”

“When I was a child, it was,” Loki says, “Being outspoken meant being disobedient and unlikable. I didn’t realize that maybe it was better to be that way until I was thirteen or fourteen.”

**_“Turn over, will ya?” Thor pipes, “We’ve got a jungle to rule.”_ **

**_“The jungle can rule itself, or you can do it on your own,” Loki grumbles, and his back feels powerful and deflective, almost like a shield, as he arches it to his brother, “I don’t make any difference.”_ **

**_“What?” Thor says incredulously, “Of course you make a difference, Loki. You know I can’t do it without you.”_ **

**_“I’m sure you could if I was never here for you to do it with,” Loki mumbles, and honestly, he kind of scares himself when things like this come flying out of his mouth without precedent or warning. I mean, he’s sharp as a tack, don’t get me wrong, but since when do_ normal _nine year-olds say things so self-loathing and hurtful?_**

Tony gets this expression on his face that’s absolutely horrible. Loki pauses to kiss the man’s chin, laughing quietly when his goatee tickles his lips.

“That’s sad, Loki,” Tony sighs with a touch of gloom, but he’s just barely smiling as he says this.

“So?” Loki retorts, and when Tony glares at him, questioning, he elaborates, “Lots of sad things happen, Tony. I don’t see the point in dwelling on them if they’re going to make you feel like shit. Plus, it was years and years ago. It doesn’t matter anymore.” (It does, though. Why would he have mentioned it if it didn’t?)

“Yeah, but you were a kid,” Tony argues, and both of them are well aware of the hypocrisy in their arguments; Tony’s childhood was a great deal worse than Loki’s in a whole lot of ways, and you can bet your ass he’d deny the importance of every single moment he felt alone or scared (which was almost every moment, to be honest), just as Loki’s doing right now.

“I’m still a kid,” Loki replies, and the statement is only half-true. He’s very much a man as well.

**_“Why do you say stuff like that?” Thor asks in a slightly whiny tone, and Loki can hear the boy moving around in his hammock, “It’s really… bad when you do that.” (Of course_ bad _is the best word Thor can come up with.)_**

**_Loki doesn’t respond to Thor’s question, because he knows his answer would only piss his brother off. He wants to say_ Because you only listen to me when my words are negative _,_ Because I know it hurts your feelings _, and_ Maybe because I feel bad. Have you ever thought about that? _. But he doesn’t. He’s smarter than that._**

**_“_ Loki _,” Thor says a bit loudly, obviously losing patience with his brother (and really, Loki can never win in these situations; no matter what he does, Thor ends up getting angry), just as the door opens. Loki doesn’t move to see who it is; his position already makes it seem like he’s asleep, which is probably for the best._**

**_“What are you two doing in here?” Mother’s voice comes asking, and suddenly, Loki’s torn between maintaining his make-believe slumber and telling on Thor. He doesn’t care if it makes him a tattle-tale._ **

**_“Loki’s being mean to me,” Thor says, and the lie makes Loki’s decision that much easier to make._ **

**_Flying up like a meerkat on the savannah to glare, incensed, at his brother, Loki protests, “No, I’m not!”_ **

**_“Yeah, you are!” Thor barks back, and oh_ God _, he’s_ pissed _and Loki’s scared and shitshit_ shit _, what’s he going to do now? He can’t stand up to Thor when he’s mad, he just_ can’t _._**

**_“Quit lying!” Loki cries, his eyes just beginning to sting with tears._ **

“Lying’s the only way I could defend myself or stay afloat when everyone else was always doing it,” Loki notes, “Even when the truth suddenly became this oh-so important, oh-so wonderful thing, I kept on spinning stories.”

“Well, that’s what you were taught,” Tony points out. And he’s absolutely right.

“Unfortunately, yes,” Loki hums.

**_“Stop it, you two!” Frigga calls over their banter, moving over to the bunk bed. She scowls disapprovingly at their inventions, asks, “Now what have I told you about the blankets?”_ **

**_“_ Momma _,” Thor keens, turning away from Loki, “We’re just having fun.”_**

**_“This doesn’t much sound like_ fun _to me,” Frigga says, placing her hands on her hips. She sweeps her eyes over the two boys, taking in Thor’s tense pose and bright expression and Loki’s darker, gloomier demeanor. With a sigh, she steps back and orders, “Out. Now.”_**

**_Thor makes an exaggeratedly disappointed noise and climbs out of his hammock. Loki follows suit, albeit more quietly. The two brothers sit on the carpet beside the bed, leaving about a foot of space between them (you have to remember how very young they are)._ **

**_Frigga sinks to her knees in front of her sons, fixing them with serious looks as she asks, “What’s wrong, hm?”_ **

**_And it’s almost as if the woman’s lit a match, because Thor and Loki are immediately yelling and pointing fingers, each trying to outdo the other. It doesn’t take long for Frigga to interrupt them with a firm and loud, “One at a time!”_ **

**_Thor and Loki quickly go silent, the former staring at the latter and the latter watching the floor._ **

**_“Who wants to go first?” Frigga ask, her voice a bit more gentle._ **

**_Loki remains tactfully wordless as Thor yaps, “Me!” He knows his brother was expecting him to speak as well, which is why he himself anticipated the boy’s speedy reply and opted to say nothing._ **

**_“Yes, Thor?” Frigga prompts, folding her hands into her lap._ **

**_“Loki was saying bad stuff and being sar–” Thor cuts himself off, his face screwing up into a confused expression, “Sar… sar–”_ **

**_“Sarcastic,” Loki mumbles, growing a bit irritated with his brother’s incompetence._ **

**_“That!” Thor cries, turning to glare at Loki for a moment. Loki glances further away._ **

**_“What kind of ‘bad things’ was Loki saying?” Frigga asks patiently, perfectly calm in the face of conflict._ **

**_Thor pauses for a moment, at a loss, before replying, “Well… he was talking like I don’t care about him, and that’s not fair.” The_ because I do _goes unspoken, but not unheard._**

**_And Thor’s words are tempering yet unsettling to Loki, because as far as he knows, Thor couldn’t care less about him sometimes._ **

**_Frigga frowns a bit, looks at Loki and asks, “What about you, Loki? What do you have to say about that?”_ **

**_Loki honestly has no idea anymore._ **

**_What ends up coming out of this mouth is, “Nothing, Mother.”_ **

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Tony asks, voice high and skeptical. He sits up a bit, and Loki moves to brace his hands against the mattress beneath them.

“Because… because it wasn’t worth it,” Loki says, “In a way, I heard what I wanted to hear, which was that Thor cared about me. I was still upset, but I wasn’t going to do or say something completely unnecessary because of that.”

**_There is along moment of uncomfortable silence after Loki speaks, only broken when Frigga asks, “Why aren’t you two in bed like you’re supposed to be?”_ **

**_“It’s_ Friday _, Momma,” Thor says in a slightly belligerent tone, “And me and Loki really aren’t that tired, and you and Daddy get to stay up late, and–”_**

**_“Alright, baby,” Frigga laughs, gently interrupting Thor’s tangent and smiling delicately, “I suppose you two could afford a few more hours of fun.”_ **

**_And that just sounds like the most wonderful/epic/awesome/glorious/[insert positive adjective] thing in the universe to both Thor and Loki, because an hour is like a whole fucking year to a child, and several of those is the equivalent of an era. Can you imagine the excitement?_ **

**_“Thanks, Mom!” Thor exclaims, his face splitting into a wide, ecstatic grin as he launches himself at Frigga, arms spread. Frigga chuckles warmly and hugs Thor to her chest, lovingly kissing his temple and ruffling his hair. Loki resists the urge to frown._ **

**_Okay, okay. You’re correct if you’re assuming that he’s just a tad jealous of Thor (and really, when is he_ not _in some way?), because even though it’s petty and nonsensical and quite honestly beyond Loki to envy the affection his brother deserves just as much as he does, he’s_ nine years-old _and has a crippling inferiority complex. That might sound like a horribly invalid excuse, but it is what it is._**

**_Thor squirms out of Frigga’s embrace and stumbles to his feet, bolting out of the bedroom and down the hall. Frigga calls over her shoulder, “Wait, Thor!”, but the command is futile. Thor’s not going to stop if Jesus Christ himself told him to._ **

**_Huffing quietly and with a trace of affection, Frigga turns back to Loki, who’s currently fascinated with the hem of his shorts. She smiles a bit, says, “Loki?”_ **

**_Loki doesn’t look up, murmurs, “Yes, Mother?” He’s always been exceptionally obedient and polite._ **

**_“Do you have something to tell me?” Frigga asks in a voice tender enough to soften alabaster, tilting her head in an inquisitive expression of openness. Loki reluctantly raises his eyes, but not his head, to regard his mother. He’s completely taken by the look on her face._ **

**_“Thor thinks I’m stupid,” Loki blurts, more willing to speak now that his brother is absent, “He never lets me help him and he’s always making me look bad.”_ **

**_Frigga’s smile drops as Loki speaks, and she reaches forward to rub her son’s cheek, soothes, “I’m sure he doesn’t mean to hurt you, darling. That’s just the way your brother is.”_ **

**_Loki sniffs nearly soundlessly, letting a few tears escape and whining, “Then I don’t like the way he is.” Because you don’t have to like someone to love them more than anything._ **

**_“Oh, sweetheart…” Frigga sighs, brushing away Loki’s tears with the pad of her thumb, “Don’t say things like that. It’s not very nice to speak badly of Thor.”_ **

**_“_ He _always does it to me,” Loki points out, dodging his mother’s hand to wipe his eyes himself._**

**_“I know. And that is wrong of him,” Frigga acknowledges, palming her thighs, “But if Thor jumped off of a bridge, would you do the same?”_ **

**_Honestly? At this point in his life, he would, just so he wouldn’t be without his brother. But Loki does understand Frigga’s point._ **

**_“No,” Loki replies, quiet and meek._ **

**_“No,” Frigga echoes. She opens her arms with a small, welcoming smile, says, “Come here, Loki.”_ **

**_Loki wastes no time at all crawling into Frigga’s lap and wrapping his thin, lanky arms around her neck. He clings to her, buries his face in her shoulder as she holds him close and rubs his back, cooing, “It’s okay, love. It’s all okay.”_ **

**_And Loki welcomes the calm, vacant feeling that overtakes him whenever he’s in his mother’s arms; it’s the closest thing to peace he’s capable of feeling with the exception of unconsciousness. He’ll treasure it every time it comes his way._ **

“Can I borrow your mom? Like, seriously?” Tony asks, and Loki laughs quietly, shifts into a more comfortable position.

“She already thinks of you as her son, so I suppose you surely can,” is Loki’s amused response.

**_After a few moments of stillness, Frigga bounces Loki in her lap, encouraging, and says, “Come on, baby. Up we go.”_ **

**_Loki holds on tight to his mother’s neck as she cradles him under his bottom and rises to her feet. Frigga balances Loki against her hip, briefly rocking him back and forth with a melodious, reassuring hum. Loki purposefully forgets to smile._ **

**_“You’re getting so big, my love,” Frigga notes, grinning exuberantly, “Look at how fast you grow. You’ll be taller than me in no time.” Even though the comment warms Loki’s heart, he’s aware of how truly ridiculous it is; everyone knows he’ll always be smaller and shorter than the general population._ **

Tony lets out a raucous, insolent, _beautiful_ laugh that has Loki smiling from ear-to-ear. He says, “That’s bullshit. You’re a fucking tree, man.”

Loki chuckles, “If you’d seen me back then, you wouldn’t have thought I’d get much taller than five and a half feet.”

**_When Loki refrains from smiling once more, Frigga nuzzles into his face and kisses at his cheeks, his nose, his ears, drawing a slightly unwilling laugh from the boy. She pipes, “There you are! I’ve missed you terribly.”_ **

**_“Mommy…” Loki half-whines, hugging around his mother’s neck and snuggling into her as much as he possibly can, and_ ohhh _, does he love her. More than almost anything in the world, he_ adores _her._**

**_“Come on, Loki,” Frigga chirps, moving down the hall, “Let’s go save your brother from the terrible beast, shall we?”_ **

“Who’s the terrible beast?” Tony asks, a small whine hooking at the end of the question when Loki crawls off of him and onto his back (What? He was getting stiff, _God_.).

Rolling his vertebrae to rid his spine of kinks, Loki says, evenly, “Guess.”

“Your A-plus father?” Tony speculates, his voice dripping with sarcasm. He presses closer to Loki, ever eager for more contact.

“Correct,” Loki sighs, smiling wry and bitter.

**_Frigga carries Loki down the dark hallway, humming quietly. She’s always humming or singing in some way, and Loki absolutely loves that. When the two arrive in the living room, Thor is perched on the sofa, birdlike, beside his father, yapping loud and excited._ **

**_“I swear Momma said we could!” Thor exclaims (and really, he’s way too fucking hyper for someone who’s been up since seven o’clock this morning, gone to school, played his crazy little butt off with Loki and Balder all afternoon, and ate out with his family), and when he sees his mother and brother enter the room, he starts waving his finger around in their general direction, crowing, “Look!”_ **

**_Odin turns to regard Frigga and Loki with a slightly amused and faintly exasperated expression, asks, “Is that so, Momma Bear?”_ **

**_Frigga laughs quietly and does a mock-salute, replies, “It is, Poppa. I don’t think it’s that big of a deal for baby bears to lose a little sleep on a Friday night.”_ **

**_Odin’s brow furrows just a bit, and he questions, “No?” in a voice that says_ Explain your obscure reasoning because I know you have it _and_ I respectfully disagree because I’d rather do other things _._**

**_Frigga does this thing with her demeanor that must communicate something only adults can understand (because Loki honestly doesn’t know_ what _it means, even if he knows it means_ something _), says, “They’ve been up all day. What’s a few more hours?”_**

**_Odin’s face changes and he gets this knowing look on his face. He says, “I see.”_ **

**_“So can we stay up?” Thor asks somewhat impatiently, bouncing up and down on his knees like a baby kangaroo._ **

**_“I suppose you can,” Odin responds, smiling warmly, “And I’ll be getting to bed. Isn’t that funny?”_ **

**_Thor grins and nods, laughs, “Yessir.” And Loki knows that Thor only agrees because it’s Odin he’s agreeing with; not because he understands the irony of the situation. Oh, bother._ **

**_Odin leans over to kiss Thor’s temple, gently ruffling his hair, hugging him close, and saying, “Goodnight, my son.”_ **

**_Thor grins as Odin stands and moves over to Frigga and Loki, quietly giggling, “Night, Daddy.”_ **

**_Loki watches placidly as Father kisses Mother on the lips, as they both murmur, “Goodnight,” at the same time, and it’s always perplexed and intrigued him how in-synch his parents can be sometimes._ **

**_And then Odin is patting his head and kissing his cheek, saying, “Goodnight, Loki.”_ **

**_Loki barely has time to reply, “Goodnight, Father,” before Odin is turning away and walking down the hallway, towards the bedroom he shares with Frigga. It doesn’t hurt him that much, yet, for he’s too young to realize that his father’s eyes see differently when they’re looking at him._ **

**_“Now, what does baby bear want to do?” Frigga inquires, shifting Loki on her hip. Loki lays his head against his mother’s shoulder, reaches down to pick at the short, velvety drawstrings at the neckline of her shirt._ **

**_“Can we watch a movie?” Thor asks, already jumping off of the sofa and running over to the shelf housing all of their videocassettes and DVDs._ **

“Remember when VCRs were the shit? And when you’d record everything on videocassettes instead of on your TiVo? And when you were awesome if you had over ten Disney movies on VHS?” Loki asks, and Tony chuckles softly.

“I do,” he replies, “And remember how amazing it was when fucking DVDs came out?”

“ _Yes!_ ” Loki says, folding his arms behind his head, “And remember the moment when you wanted to watch something like Sleeping Beauty, but then you looked at your VCR and realized it was so old and dusty and full of crap that you couldn’t use it anymore?”

Tony is laughing quite heartily before Loki’s even finished with his statement, nodding in agreement and answering, “Shit yeah!”

**_“Sure,” Frigga says, moving over to the couch to sit on it. She easily relocates Loki to her lap, curling her arm around the boy’s back and leaning her head against his. Loki lets out a contented sigh._ **

**_Thor makes this excited, giggling noise and slaps his hands to the video shelf, shoving his nose against the spines of the movies sitting there. Loki has no idea how his brother can read like that._ **

**_“What do you want to watch, sweetheart?” Frigga asks, smoothing down his raven hair._ **

**_“I don’t care,” Loki replies quietly, looks away from Thor to stare into his lap. He really_ does _care, but he knows full well that Thor would most likely shoot down his suggestions like a seven nation army if he didn’t agree with him, and Loki’s too scared to risk that. Plus, he still feels a bit rubbed raw by Thor’s earlier behavior; Loki is_ not _one to forget._**

**_“No?” Frigga inquires just as Thor rips something from the shelf and starts running around with it thrust high in the air. Loki shakes his head, silent._ **

**_“Loki, Loki, Loki!” Thor caws, leaping onto the sofa like a hyperactive chimpanzee (do you know how fucking crazy one of those would be?) and shoving a video in his brother’s pouting, despondent face. He questions, “You wanna watch this?”_ **

**_Well, then. This is odd. Thor almost_ never _cares about Loki’s opinion enough to ask him about it._**

**_Loki pushes the video away enough for him to examine the cover (because he can’t see shit with it all up in his face), and to his surprise, he actually approves of the movie (which is fucking_ great _, considering that almost everything Thor chooses or does is something he isn’t too fond of). Thor peeks over the top of the case in time to see Loki nod a bit, say, “Okay.”_**

**_“All right!” Thor cries, jumping to the floor and crawling around the coffee table over to the TV, where a Hallmark movie is currently playing._ **

**_“Do you need help, Thor?” Frigga asks, watching her son fiddle with the remote control and change the channel to that blue screen everyone used to see whenever they watched a movie. Thor growls quietly, the little prick._ **

**_“_ No _, Mom,” he snaps, dropping the remote on the carpet and cramming his chosen videocassette into the VCR. The screen soon goes black, and Thor shoots off of the ground, grabs the bulky VCR remote, and bounds onto the sofa. He bounces up and down a few times, making himself comfortable._**

**_“I’m gonna skip the commercials,” Thor announces, aiming the remote at the VCR. Loki nearly has a fucking_ conniption _._**

**_“I_ like _the commercials!” the boy whines, sitting up a bit. He honestly feels affronted and insulted by his brother’s intentions; Thor should know how much he anticipates the trailers that precede movies._**

**_“The commercials are stupid!” Thor argues, making a face at Loki, and_ oh shit _, there goes Loki’s nerve again, all because Thor has to be a fucking dumbass and get angry._ Great _._**

“Can I just say something?” Tony asks, scratching his nose and glancing at Loki.

“Of course,” Loki replies, and it’s actually a relief to shut up after about ten minutes of nearly nonstop storytelling. You know how your mouth gets that gummy, loose feeling and is suddenly flooding with saliva when you talk talk _talk_ for a really long time? Yeah. It’s not very pleasant.

“First, I’m _dying_ for a cigarette,” Tony starts, sits up and runs a hand through his hair. Loki smiles a bit.

“ _Yes_ , you are quite literally _dying_ for a cigarette,” Loki quips, prompting Tony to roll his eyes and slap his side.

“Second, I, uhm… I don’t want to be rude or anything, but your brother can go fuck himself, _hard_ , with a crowbar,” Tony says, completely deadpan, and Loki absolutely _cannot_ stop himself from bursting into laughter (both because of how Tony said what he did and the mental picture his words conjure). Oh my _God_ , would you take a look at some of the shit that comes out of this man’s mouth?

“I’m serious, though!” Tony goes on, his eyebrows shooting up his forehead, “That’s fucking traumatizing!”

“I know, I know,” Loki chuckles, sitting up right along with Tony, “And believe me, I’m not at all fond of his behavior either. But would I be who I am today if he wasn’t such an asshole?”

Well. _That_ was awfully dramatic.

Tony screws up his face, sliding off of the bed to move towards his desk. He says, “I understand what you mean, I do. But–”

“But Thor’s a dick and he ruined my life and _boo-hoo-hoo_ ,” Loki cuts in, waving his arms and bowing his head in a purposefully theatrical display of _woe_ , “I’ve done enough crying about that and I’d like to move on now, thank you very much.”

And Loki honestly _didn’t_ mean to say that; it just came out, kind of like spilling milk into a conveniently-placed bowl of cereal (if that actually happens to people). But, no. He’s twenty fucking years-old and has better things to worry about, like school and Tony and various other minor situations. Whatever happens with Thor from now on is in the future; _not_ the past.

Tony glances up at Loki with this slightly snooty expression, snatching up a pack of cigarettes from his desk (Speaking of, do you know how many fucking cigarettes Tony smokes a day? Ten. I’m serious.) and snorting, “Well, damn.”

Loki realizes he is an asshole. It sucks when that happens.

“I’m sorry,” Loki laughs, shaking his head a bit, “I’m just really tired of being airheaded.”

“No, no. I get it,” Tony says, sticking a cigarette between his lips and digging around for his lighter, “I just thought a comment like that would be _welcome_ when we were speaking so openly about your childhood and Thor’s douchebaggery, that’s all.”

Okay, Tony. Be an asshole with your intentional wordiness and nonchalance.

“Tony, fuck you,” Loki says, grinning when his friend looks up to shoot him a slighted look.

“Won’t you?” Tony asks, pausing to light his cigarette and grab an ashtray from his desk before returning to the bed. He sits on the edge of the mattress beside Loki, takes a long drag and adds, “That’d be wonderful.”

“Not this time,” Loki hums, scooting very respectfully away from Tony (it’s nothing personal; he just cares a whole lot about his lungs).

Tony smirks, waves his cigarette around in the air and asks, “You wanna try and shotgun again? That was pretty fucking–”

“ _Unhealthy_ ,” Loki finishes, crossing his arms tersely, “May I continue my story?”

Tony _hmms_ in accord around his cigarette, leaning back against a pillow. Loki resists the urge to cough like a maniac for the sole purpose of being rude (he is capable of being _that_ immature, trust me) and quickly recalls where he left off.

**_“Calm down, the both of you!” Frigga interjects, her face setting into a hard, solemn expression that scares the fucking_ shit _out of both Thor and Loki. Mothers are fierce, man._**

**_“Now, Thor. It’s my opinion that you’ve been a little unfair to your brother tonight,” Frigga continues, frowning slightly._ **

**_“Momma!” Thor keens, “I didn’t do_ anything _to Loki!”_**

**_“Thor,” Frigga persists in a voice that’s downright_ terrifying _, “You hurt Loki’s feelings, and neither I nor he appreciates that.”_**

**_And Loki sort of-kind of wants to scream now, because he doesn’t_ want _Thor to know that he’s wounded him. That’s the equivalent of showing all your cards in a game of poker, of committing a crime and leaving a trail of blood leading right to your door. It’s weakness. Which is fitting, seeing that Loki’s always so frail._**

**_Thor pouts, cries, “But his feelings are always getting hurt! Why should it matter?”_ **

**_Can I hear a great big_ ouch _?_**

“You’re not fucking serious,” Tony says, and when Loki looks up at his friend, the man is wide-eyed and slack-jawed, his cigarette just _hanging_ between his index and middle fingers.

“What?” Loki asks, even though he’s well aware of how truly shocking Thor’s words are. He smoothes a hand through his hair, totally blasé.

“Did he actually say that about you?” Tony questions, and he taps his cigarette ashes into the ashtray balanced on his thigh without conviction, like he’s barely aware of what he’s doing. Loki shrugs a bit.

“Yeah. And damn did it hurt,” he replies, “But he was a stupid child, just like everyone is at some point in their lives.”

“I would have backhanded that _stupid child_ ,” Tony grumbles, roughly shoving his cigarette back into his mouth.

“Really?” Loki challenges, “If one day you find yourself with a ten year-old child who says something like that, would you hit them?”

That cuts Tony’s anger short pretty quickly. Scowling, the man says, “That’s different.”

And Loki knows he’s made a dick move; that was a touchy thing to ask considering how Tony’s grown up (I mean, it wasn’t a violent childhood, but it might has well have been with the shit he went through). Hell, it’s a little scary to think of what kind of parents they might make in the future when you remember their folks. Loki at least had Frigga; Tony had jack.

Smiling gently, Loki says, “I know what you meant, Tony. I’m grateful for that.”

Tony hums in something like acknowledgment, idly puffing on his cigarette. Goddammit.

“Don’t be upset,” Loki half-murmurs, bringing his knees up to his chest, crossing his arms over them, and resting his chin atop his limbs.

Tony blows out a thin stream of smoke, retorts, “Come here and make me happy.”

Loki blinks. Okay.

“Just a kiss?” Tony asks, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

Loki suppresses a wave of agitation (You’ve been there, right? After getting in a position you’re completely comfortable with, you have to _move_ for whatever reason.) and leans across the expanse of mattress separating him and his friend. Tony eagerly meets him halfway, giving Loki a mouthful of smoke and best friend, and honestly? It tastes really good. Carcinogenic, but good.

“What did I tell you about shotgunning?” Loki coughs, and instead of reclaiming his previous stance, he just lies down on his side. Damn, they’re doing a lot of moving around tonight.

“That it’s unhealthy,” Tony replies simply, “And you know what’s funny?”

“Enlighten me, love,” Loki hums.

“I find that some of the best things in life aren’t good for you,” Tony says, stubbing his cigarette out with a smile.

“Tell that to your liver and your lungs,” Loki chuckles, moving an arm behind his head. Tony snorts a laugh and relocates his ashtray to the nightstand beside him.

**_Loki bites his lip and squints his eyes against the tears he knows are begging to come forth, listens to the sounds coming from the TV. What do you know? The commercials have started._ **

**_“Thor, that’s a horrible thing to say about your brother!” Frigga exclaims, straightening her posture and shifting Loki in her lap, “Of course you should care about Loki’s feelings. He’s a person, just like you.”_ **

**_Thor scowls, looking down and away from his mother and brother. He huffs a sharp breath through his nose, dragonlike and angry, and Loki knows that he’s playing the denial game. Unsurprising._ **

**_“Apologize,” Frigga orders, and Thor’s head snaps up, indignant._ **

**_“Momma!” he protests, his face a mask of bitter resentment._ **

**_“Don’t argue with me,” Frigga bites, “Say sorry to Loki. You’ve hurt him.”_ **

**_At first, Thor just glares really hard at Frigga and Loki, as if that will make them disappear in a puff of smoke or something ridiculous like that. But after that doesn’t work (and why would it?), he gives a deep sigh and says, “I’m sorry, Loki. You can watch the commercials.”_ **

**_And that’s exactly what Loki is supposed to want, right? But you know what?_ He doesn’t fucking care. _Not anymore._**

**_His feelings don’t matter? That’s okay. He can fucking deal with that. He can shut up and sit down. Cool._ **

**_“I don’t care. You can skip them,” Loki replies, turning his pale eyes up to the ceiling. There’s an uncomfortable beat of silence after he speaks, like the whole world is trying to decide whether he’s being sincere or not. And_ of course _, nobody fucking knows how to take him_ seriously _; God forbid that they do._**

**_Frigga frowns, lilts, “Loki, you don’t have to–”_ **

**_“I don’t care!” Loki roughly cuts her off, fixing her and Thor with a piercing,_ pained _look that conveys a whole lot more than_ Shut up and leave me alone _(as if he’d say something like that) ever would. When his mother and brother remain mute even_ longer _(oh my God, you can fucking_ speak _; Loki won’t throw a fit or anything, not that you’d care), Loki adds, “Do what you want.”_**

**_Then he does as best as he can to turn away from Frigga and Thor, moving so that his back is against his mother’s stomach and his head is resting beneath his arms. Hm._ **

**_Again, Thor and Frigga are silent and still, but not for long. Soon Thor is fast forwarding through the commercials, Frigga is tightening her arms around her son, and Loki is shedding noiseless tears, hidden in the protective circle of his arms._ **

**Tarzan _begins without much incident. Loki drifts in and out of focus throughout the introduction, mainly because he’s making a conscious effort to_ not _let his tears be apparent. That would be… tragic. Or heartbreaking. And Thor and Frigga would make this huge fucking deal about it, and he’d suddenly be the center of all this negative attention, and no. Just, no._**

**_Loki’s not exactly sure when he decides to shut up and stop his godawful weeping, but it’s somewhere between the lovely mother gorilla rescuing baby Tarzan and Tarzan growing up to be full-fledged ape-man, complete with dramatic running, leaping, swinging, and screaming._ **

**_“Momma, Momma, look!” Thor exclaims, and Loki can feel when the boy jostles Frigga’s side. He’s excited and oblivious once more, predictably._ **

**_And honestly? It really works on Loki’s nerves and incites intense, saucy flares of jealousy inside him when Thor does this. That his brother is so crazily quick to anger and_ still _manages to be such an optimistic and upbeat person is absolutely fucking_ infuriating _to Loki. It’s not fair._**

**_Frigga makes an extremely motherly humming noise, says, “I see.”_ **

**_“I’m gonna be like him,” Thor proclaims, his voice filled with awe and pride._ **

**_Loki could never make_ his _voice do_ that _._**

**_“I sincerely hope not,” Frigga laughs, smoothing a hand down Loki’s concavely-curved side, “You’re already rambunctious enough.”_ **

**_“What’s that mean?” Thor asks. Loki sighs, quiet and vexed. Oh, the trials of a nine year-old with a sixth-grade reading level._ **

**_“What?_ Rambunctious _?” Frigga questions._**

**_Well, no duh. Would_ you _expect a ten year-old like Thor to know what the word_ rambunctious _means? I didn’t think so._**

**_“Yeah. It sounds funny,” Thor replies. Loki can feel the sofa subtly bouncing beneath him, and he mentally curses his brother’s habit of jumping whenever he gets excited. That’s annoying._ **

**_“It means… active and energetic,” Frigga thoughtfully clarifies. She moves a hand to play with Loki’s dark, curly hair, and Loki resists the urge to jerk away from her touch._ **

“Your curls!” Tony interjects, grinning wide and laughing quietly. Loki makes a face at the man.

“What about them?” he asks, only half-paying attention to what he’s doing when he tugs at the ends of his hair, tucked neatly behind his ear. The question is an incredibly stupid one to ask when Loki knows very well, almost _too_ well, what Tony’s answer will be.

“What _about_ them?” Tony echoes, “They’re fucking adorable.”

“Oh, stop it,” Loki immediately retorts, lightly batting Tony’s thigh, “They’re childish.”

“I will douse you with water every time I see you just to bring them out, I swear,” Tony chuckles, catching Loki’s hand in his own when he tries to pull it away. He brings the man’s fingers to his lips, just a hint of a smirk adorning his lips.

“You wouldn’t,” Loki retorts, fixes Tony with a hard mock-glare.

Tony laughs again, asks, “And why wouldn’t I?”

“Because I promise you, you’d never touch me again if you did,” Loki challenges, and he quirks a brow for emphasis. That pretty much does it.

Tony smiles one of his somewhat forced, over-exaggerated smiles, says very curtly and uncomfortably, “You’re right. I wouldn’t.”

“That’s what I thought,” Loki hums with a small, devious smirk, gently pulling his hand from Tony. Tony frowns a bit.

**_Thor is silent for a few moments, like he’s trying to process the meaning of his mother’s words (not that they would be difficult to understand, mind you). When he does speak, he asks, “Is that a good thing?”_ **

**_Oh my_ God.**

**_Frigga chuckles (because everything Thor says is so funny and amusing, hahahaha, let’s just laugh forever, shall we?), replies, “Depending on the context, yes.”_ **

**_And at this point, Thor just gives the fuck up trying to understand what things like_ context _and_ depending _mean. He simply redirects his focus back to_ Tarzan _, which is much easier and more pleasant to watch and listen to than his mother and the words coming out of her mouth._**

“So, uhm… I’m going to skip ahead a little,” Loki semi-announces in a terribly diplomatic tone, “Because what’s basically happening through most of the movie is Thor jumping around and saying random shit that I don’t care about while I mope and roll my eyes a whole lot.”

As Loki nears the end of his sentence, he looks over at Tony to find the man eyeing him very peculiarly. Uhm, okay?

“What?” Loki asks, only slightly confrontational.

“You swear a lot,” Tony notes, his voice wondrous and his pace slow.

Loki smiles in a nonchalant-yet-sheepish-yet-confused way, retorts, “So? You curse a lot more than I do.”

“Yeah, but I’ve always done that. You’ve only been cursing like _this_ for about a month,” Tony points out, turning onto his side and looming over Loki just a bit obtrusively. Personal space is absolutely meaningless to them, can’t you tell?

“Well, Thor moved in a month ago,” Loki sighs in response, and he’s only just now realizing how much his life has changed in said month as he talks, “I think the ‘ _brospeak_ ’ he and his friends use has permeated me or something.”

“There’s also your explosive rage and sudden volatility now that he’s so much in your life,” Tony inputs, walking his fingers across the mattress between them and reclaiming Loki’s hand. His tone is droll and indifferent, contradictory to the words he’s saying, and the inflection almost tricks Loki.

It’s really hard to trick a trickster, though.

“What?” Loki questions again, a bit more fiery this time, and he narrows his eyes at Tony, almost challenging.

“Hm?” Tony hums, squeezing Loki’s fingers as he meets the man’s eyes. He appears to be innocent, but that could mean jack considering who he is.

“Are you implying that I’m a jackass?” Loki asks, frowning slightly.

Tony blinks, makes a _What the hell no no no_ face at him and replies, “Of course not! I’m just saying that maybe Thor, being hotheaded and all that, rubbed off on you. Or that he makes you really pissy a whole lot of the time. Which is true, am I right?”

He is. Loki nods, silent.

“It’s not a bad thing,” Tony goes on, and he’s using his _I’m grasping for words because I’m a fucking idiot and I already talk too much_ voice, “I mean, it _is_ because you’re in a bad mood, but that doesn’t make you a less pleasant person to me. Uhm.”

“I get it,” Loki breathes, smiling at Tony’s painfully apparent anxiety. Seeing the man so unusually ineloquent is refreshing and just a tad hilarious.

Tony grins as well, says, “I hope you do. Because I’m not _at all_ saying that you’re not a good person. You’re pretty fucking great, if I do say so myself.”

“Well, thank you,” Loki laughs, even if he doesn’t agree at all.

“You’re more than welcome,” Tony replies, inching a bit closer. Oh, Tony.

Loki opens his mouth to speak, then realizes that he really doesn’t know what the fuck he’s planning to say. Awkwardly, he seals his lips again, vainly trying to regain his train of thought. What was he rambling on about?

Tony chuckles lowly, easily distracting Loki (damn it, Tony, do you always have to do that, _Tony_ , that’s fucking annoying, **_Tony_** ). He asks, “A little lost?”

“Yes, no thanks to you,” Loki scolds without heat, shaking his head as if to clear it of dust and cobwebs (if only that kind of shit worked), “You’re too easy to talk to.”

“Is that good or bad?” Tony asks, and _fuck_ , he’s only getting Loki farther and farther away from his desired destination; aka: wherever the hell he was in his story.

“Both,” Loki replies mindlessly, tightly gripping Tony’s hand and closing his eyes in thought. If his friend could shut up and I don’t know, _walk across the room_ for a second or two, maybe he’d actually be able to think.

Tony makes this noncommittal noise and shrugs, says, “If it helps, you were telling me that you were going to do the time warp because Thor says things no one cares about.”

Loki doesn’t know whether he should start bitching or thank Tony. He does neither.

**_By the time the end of the movie rolls around, Loki is more than ready to just crawl in bed and fall asleep. While he isn’t on the verge of breaking down and sobbing, he_ is _still upset (it’s always been in Loki’s nature to hold grudges), and any more time around Thor’s oppressively hyperactive, bossy self will probably drive him just a little insane._**

**_“Okay, my bugs,” Frigga says as the credits begin to roll, “I believe it’s time for you to get to bed.” Her voice is audibly tired, and when Loki peers over his shoulder at her, he can glimpse the nearly invisible dark circles ringing his mother’s eyes._ **

**_“_ Mooommm _,” Thor whines (oh my God, shut the fuck up) in response._**

**_“No, no, no, no,” Frigga protests, sitting up straight, “You’ve been up much too long.”_ **

**_Loki doesn’t disagree. Without a word, he carefully slides off of Frigga’s lap and onto the floor, yawning quietly._ **

**_“But we’re not even sleepy, Momma!” Thor argues, and Loki resists the urge to cave his brother’s face in._ Of course _Thor would assume he automatically agreed with him._**

**_Instead of using violence, Loki notes, meekly, “I’m very tired, Mother.”_ **

**_“You’re no fun, Loki!” Thor loudly interjects, and his words are like bullets and poison and everything horrible in the world to hear. Thankfully, Mother Frigga is there to be a badass and a superhero._ **

**_“Thor, I’ve had enough of you being rude to your brother!” Frigga scolds, suddenly and alarmingly_ pissed _. Remember how calm and composed she was being before? That Frigga is fucking_ gone _. It’s business time, now, and you know how I can tell? Thor isn’t talking back._**

**_“You need to learn to stop being so mean to Loki,” Frigga goes on, rising from her seat and turning into a_ goddess _to her children, “He has feelings, and you hurt him when you say such unkind things! Don’t you know better?”_**

**_Thor just stares, wide-eyed, at his mother, fisting his hands in the front of his shirt._ **

**_“Answer me!” Frigga demands, and oh_ fuck _, shit just got real._**

**_“Yes, ma’am,” Thor blurts, blinking hard with fear. His bottom lip is quivering just slightly, and Loki can see the absolute terror on his brother’s face from where he sits on the carpet. The sight doesn’t please him at all._ **

**_Frigga releases a deep, exasperated sigh, braces her fingers against her forehead and cries, “Loki is your_ brother _, and you should respect him. He respects_ you _.”_**

“At the time, I didn’t really know the difference between _respect_ and _love_ ,” Loki says, “That’s what made Thor being so ugly so horrible and upsetting to me.”

**_Thor nods solemnly, repeating himself with, “Yes, ma’am.”_ **

**_Frigga is speechless for awhile, just watching Thor, and Loki can only imagine the massive amount of stress his brother is under right now. Then Frigga’s saying, “Get to bed, both of you. And take those blankets down.”_ **

**_There’s no hesitation when Thor jumps off of the sofa and runs down the hall and into the bedroom he shares with Loki. Loki barely has time to move out of the way to avoid being trampled by his brother, but he isn’t much angered by Thor’s hastiness. In fact, he empathizes with him._ **

**_As noiselessly as he can, Loki gets to his feet and begins to start down the hallway, unwilling to disturb his mother. He almost jumps out of his skin when Frigga murmurs, “Wait, Loki.”_ **

**_Loki slowly turns to face Frigga, a small, fleeting jolt of anxiety running through him as he does (which is silly, because rarely is he ever scared of his mother). Frigga is moving to kneel in front of him, smiling gently to calm his nerves (or her own, probably both)._ **

**_“I’m sorry about what happened tonight, baby,” Frigga croons, and she raises a hand to run through his hair._ **

**_Loki leans into his mother’s touch, softly replies, “It’s okay.”_ **

**_Frigga’s smile softens into a half-frown, her eyes dropping a bit. She sighs, “Thor shouldn’t be so mean to you. That’s not very fair, is it?”_ **

**_Loki shakes his head, mute._ **

**_After a beat of silence, Frigga returns her gaze to Loki and says, “Don’t let him bother you, okay? You’re nothing less than wonderful.”_ **

**_Loki hints a smile even if he doesn’t really agree with his mother’s words, shyly lowers his head. Frigga laughs in response, always amused by her son’s bashfulness, and she leans forward to press a tender, loving kiss to his forehead._ **

**_“Now, off to bed with you,” Frigga hums as she pulls away to stand up. She gives his curls one final ruffle and adds, “Dream sweet.”_ **

**_Loki pauses. You know that fuzzy-warm, electric feeling you get when your mother kisses you goodnight, how it makes your heart stand still for what feels like hours? That’s pretty much what’s going on right now._ **

**_Frigga tilts her head at Loki’s hesitation, asks, “What’s wrong?”_ **

**_Loki doesn’t answer verbally, just hugs his mother tight around the waist. It only takes Frigga a microsecond to return the embrace, humming happily and affectionately rubbing her son’s back._ **

**_And then Loki is running down the hallway, unusually jumpy as a result of his happiness, and calling, “Goodnight, Mother.”_ **

**_“Goodnight, Loki,” Frigga replies as Loki slips into his bedroom, identical smiles on both of their faces._ **

“And that’s it, right?” Tony asks, “The end?”

Loki flattens his hands against the top of his head, laces his fingers together and says, “Not quite.”

**_Thor is a dark lump of pissy little boy in the top bunk. Loki stares at his brother for a moment, and he can just_ feel _the negative vibes radiating off of the boy. Surprisingly, that hurts him. More than Thor being a complete jackass, it_ hurts _him._**

“There,” Tony says very suddenly, emphasizing his statement by pointing at the air.

“There, what?” Loki questions. He can sense a dropped disagreement being picked up again, just because Tony does things like that as well as he breathes (and you know, that was kind of an ironic simile when you take Tony’s smoking habit into consideration).

“You go on and on about how _selfish_ you are, when really, you can’t even _imagine_ being okay with someone you care about getting hurt,” Tony proclaims, “Even if they’re total assholes.”

Loki _really_ wants to protest Tony’s claims, but that something that always gives him coincidentally helpful advice tells him not to. Instead, he asks, “What makes you think I’m still like that?”

Tony hesitates, props himself up on his elbow. After a second of thought, he replies, “Well, you love _me_ , for one.”

Loki laughs as Tony goes on, “And, as stupid and as douchey as he is, you wouldn’t _dream_ of leaving Thor, would you? Would you?”

“No, I don’t suppose I would,” Loki says, and there isn’t a trace of reluctance in his tone. _That’s_ an improvement.

“And even though you say you hate him _so_ much, you care about Steve, right?” Tony challenges, and this time, he _is_ pushing it a little too far for Loki’s comfort.

“Wait, why would you–?” Loki starts to ask, but Tony’s being his typically inconsiderate old self and cutting him off.

“And even though they piss you off and fuck up your house, you actually _do_ give a damn about Thor’s friends, right?” Tony rambles on, “And even if he was a horrible dad, your father’s still your father, right? And even though she’s just an annoying freshman who loves you _way_ too much for having just met you, you like that Kitty girl, right?”

“Tony, _shut up_ ,” Loki practically _yells_ over his friend, sealing his hand over Tony’s mouth. He’s positive that if he doesn’t stop him now, the man’s ranting will never end.

Tony’s eyes widen in surprise, and he blinks a few times, furrows his brow as if to say _Okay, bitch_.

Loki looks hard at Tony for a long moment, keeping his palm firmly planted against the man’s mouth. He whispers, playful, “Can I tell you a secret?”

Tony nods, his face brightening, and Loki delicately pulls his hand away to reveal the man’s highly-amused smirk. He murmurs, “I promise I won’t tell.”

Okay, stop making that face. They’re very odd people, remember?

“Not a soul?” Loki asks with a grin, and he honest to God holds up his pinkie. Yeah, he went _there_.

Tony hooks his little finger with Loki’s, echoes, “Not a soul.”

Loki leans up to speak right in Tony’s ear despite the fact that they’re completely alone, says, “You’re absolutely right about everything.”

“ _Yes_ ,” Tony triumphantly hisses, turning to meet Loki’s eyes.

“Except…” Loki quickly adjoins, trailing off and smiling when Tony makes a face at him, “My father. He’s nothing more than a man to me.”

Tony scowls a bit, says, “That’s kind of harsh, don’t you think?”

“That it may be, but it’s the truth,” Loki replies, “He’s different from Thor, because I’ve always loved and respected my brother. Father was just someone I was scared of and happened to live with."

Tony nods a bit, humming, “I see.”

There’s a slightly awkward but mostly comfortable silence then, which Loki breaks with, “May I continue?”

“Go wild,” Tony laughs in response.

**_Chancing absolute heartbreak, Loki asks, “Thor?”_ **

**_“What?” Thor calls back, and his tone is harsh and cold. Ouch._ **

**_At first, Loki’s resolve is completely smashed to bits. He immediately decides that there’s no way in the_ world _that he’s going to talk to his brother when he’s so angry and brusque. Absolutely not._**

**_But then, he reminds himself what it feels like to be alone and wounded, to want someone to lift you up when you’re down. He reminds himself that even if Thor would never admit to craving comfort, he’s still very vulnerable, still very human. He reminds himself that it’s just as much his job as it is Thor’s to look after his brother._ **

**_“Are you alright?” Loki asks, enlightened. He pads across the room to their bed, peers up at Thor in the top bunk._ **

**_“Leave me alone. This is all your fault,” Thor growls, and something about the accusatory way in which he speaks_ really _pisses Loki off._**

**_“No,” Loki snaps with an uncharacteristic boldness, “I’m not going to leave you alone, and it’s not my fault.”_ **

**_Thor’s head whips over the side of the bunk, expression cross and eyes glaring, and he retorts, “If you hadn’t gotten so hurt, none of this would have ever happened!”_ **

**_They’re speaking kind of loudly for kids who are supposed to be sleeping, don’t you think?_ **

**_Loki hesitates, taken aback by Thor’s aggression (damn it). He closes his eyes and purses his lips, breathes slow to regain some daring, then says, “Thor, sometimes I get really upset and I can’t help it. It’s not my fault. It’s_ not _my fault, and I wish you would realize that, okay?”_**

**_Thor doesn’t reply. He just stares at Loki, glowering a bit._ **

**_“I just wanted to make you feel better, that’s all,” Loki goes on, smiling sadly, “Sorry if that’s such a bother to you.”_ **

**_And then he crawls into his bunk and starts to take the mock-hammocks there down._ **

“Look at you,” Tony says, fondness evident in his voice, “Nine years-old and you already understand reverse psychology. You’re gonna be a fucking beast shrink.”

**_Loki’s barely got one knot undone before Thor is climbing, quite noisily, down from his bunk. The boy stands beside his ladder for a moment, watching his brother with conflicted eyes before he says, “Don’t do that.”_ **

**_Obediently, Loki lowers his hands from the knot he’s working on, evenly holding Thor’s gaze._ **

**_“Scoot over,” Thor orders, gesturing with his hands and arms, “Get in your hammock.”_ **

**_Loki only pauses for about a half-second before he’s doing what Thor says and climbing into his aquatic hammock; fuck what Mother will say tomorrow morning. Thor does the same, and thankfully, his hammock doesn’t fail him this time._ **

**_Then there’s a stretch of silence, in which Thor and Loki just kind of stare at each other and wait for someone to speak._ **

**_“I’m still tired,” Loki ends up saying. It’s only when the words are out of his mouth that he realizes how stupid and potentially infuriating they are._ **

**_But Thor doesn’t go off on him. No, no. Instead, he replies, “Well, goodnight.”_ **

**_Translation:_ Sorry, I still love you, no hard feelings _._**

**_“Goodnight, Thor,” Loki sighs, taking a moment to smile before turning over and curling up in his hammock. He only falls asleep after he’s heard Thor make himself comfortable and slip into the tell-tale labored breathing of unconsciousness._ **

“ _The end_ ,” Loki says pointedly. Tony makes a satisfied noise, then goes quiet.

After a few long beats of calmness, Tony raises his hand like a ten year-old in math class. Loki huffs, “Yes, Mr. Stark?”

“Another one?” Tony asks, and when Loki’s hand flies up to slap against his side, he laughs, “You’re a good storyteller and you’ve got a lot to tell. That’s more than I could say about a lot of people.”

“What time is it?” Loki retorts, repeating his earlier question and sitting up to crawl out of bed. Tony stops him with two arms wrapped firmly around his middle and a chin digging into his shoulder.

“I’m not letting you out of this bed until you tell me _one_ more story,” Tony says in a grave-yet-pleading voice (how the fuck did he do that?), “I swear it on my father’s life.”

“That’s promising,” Loki snorts, taking an obvious jab at Tony’s not-so-friendly feelings towards his old man. Tony gives a low, throaty chuckle, and Loki nearly shivers at the sound rumbled directly in his ear.

“ _Please?_ ” Tony begs, “I’ll love you forever?”

“You’d do that anyway,” Loki notes, relaxing in Tony’s embrace in something like surrender. It’s not fair to be best friends with someone so persuasive/attractive/adorable/hilarious/[insert positive adjective], especially when their bed belonged to _God_ once upon a time.

“Is that a yes?” Tony asks, moving a hand to idly draw patterns across Loki’s chest with his index finger. Loki sighs.

“How about the time my cousins put me on trial?” he asks, turning his head to look at Tony.

Tony’s face splits into a wide, excited grin. Loki can’t help but mirror it.

“So,” Loki prefaces, crossing his legs and taking Tony’s hands in his own, “There really isn’t a good way to introduce this story. It’s not exactly a fairy tale.”

“I’m sure you can manage,” Tony smoothly replies, being typically unhelpful and blasé, “You know I’ve been wanting to hear about this ever since you mentioned it, like, _forever_ ago.”

“I know,” Loki sighs, and he can feel reluctance creeping up his spine and curling into his mouth like a dragon of bittersweet aftertaste as the memory of the mock-trial settles in his mind. Isn’t it funny how one thing can incite millions of different reactions and emotions depending on who’s experienced them? Because, look:

If you asked Loki how he felt about this particular incident, you’d end up with a plethora of negative adjectives cramming your ears and a ranting, pissy, _upset_ twenty year-old. Thor, however, would most likely burst into hearty laughter and proceed to tell you all about the ordeal without an ounce of hesitation. Different still, Frigga would take on a sentimental air and recount the event with thoughtful eyes and a slightly heavy heart. Odin would simply make a face and ask, “What are you talking about?”

My point is: everybody perceives ‘ _the trial_ ’ differently, and that’s why it’s probably for the best that Tony’s got the single one person who _despises_ the event to tell him about it. Yep. Anyways.

Loki only realizes that he’s been embarrassingly mute for God knows how long when Tony prods a gentle finger against his side and nuzzles his neck ( _damn_ ), whispers, “You okay?”

Yeah, Loki. It really freaks people out when you go all silent and still like that, mostly because it’s kind of creepy and a pretty solid indicator that something’s breaking inside you (your heart, for example).

Instead of giving Tony a direct answer (since when are _those_ fun?), Loki asks, soft and slightly unwilling, “Have I ever told you about my cousins?”

 _The_ cousins. And by _the_ cousins, I mean the ones Loki’s been with since diapers, the ones he’s played with just as long as he’s played with Thor, the ones he shared homes and clothing and secrets and lies with, the ones that grew up a whole lot later than _he_ did, the ones that fucked the hell off as soon as the accident happened, the ones that are clinging to the threads of an old and dying relationship that suffers from the effects of age and distance and a heart broken one too many times, the ones Loki can’t claim to remember too fondly even if a part of him desperately wants to. _Those_ cousins.

Tony makes a brief, hushed noise of consideration before mumbling into Loki’s skin, “You’ve mentioned them a few times, but you haven’t actually _talked_ about them in depth, y’know?”

Loki hums in acknowledgement and leans forward, forcing Tony to accommodate his new position (would you take a look at this _asshole_?). He says, eyes downcast and stormy, “Balder was six months older than Thor, and Freyr and Freya were born six months before me.”

Tony seems to realize that _oh, Loki’s actually going to talk now_ , and his voice is upbeat and curious as he inquires, “They’re twins?”

Assuming that Tony’s talking about Freyr and Freya, Loki nods and elaborates, “Freyr was always talking about how he was older than Freya because he was born eight minutes before her, and Freya was always _baby girl_ or _little sister_ to him.”

“What are they like?” Tony asks, “All your cousins, I mean.” He rubs his nose along Loki’s shoulder, drags the man’s collar down to drop soft kisses there, and _goddammit_ , do you know how fucking distracting and _wonderful_ that is?

“Uhm…” Loki breathes a bit bewilderedly, closing his eyes in a feeble attempt to regain his focus (even though doing so actually makes every sense in his body but sight direct itself at Tony and his hands and his mouth and his _breath_ , and the way he breathes and the way he smells and the way he feels and _aaaggghhh_ ). Squeezing Tony’s hand as if to say _Lay off on the foreplay, will you?_ , he says, “Balder was Thor’s best friend, besides me. He was… very quiet and very reserved. He never really liked to make a fuss about much of anything. And he was always doing something physical, just like Thor.”

“Was he a follower?” Tony asks with a hint of smugness, “I’m sorry if I’m bothering you with all these questions…”

“It’s fine,” Loki asserts before Tony can go off on one of his rambling tangents (you _know_ he’d be one to do that), “Uhm… _yeah_ , kind of. Before the accident, all he’d do was follow Thor around. If Thor wanted to go out for football, Balder did, too. Hell, if Thor was dead-set on riding a rainbow to _Narnia_ , Balder would be raring to go right along with him,” he pauses, face puckering a bit, then adds, “Actually, when I really think about it, it always seemed like Balder was only with us _because_ of Thor. That might just be my pessimism talking, though.”

“But you were friends with him, right?” Tony questions, and Loki can feel the man shift a bit awkwardly against his back.

“Of course I was,” is Loki’s quick, curt answer. He turns to look Tony in the eyes and asks, abrupt and concerned, “What’s wrong? Are you uncomfortable

Tony smirks a bit and lifts his chin off of Loki’s shoulder, shaking his head and saying, “No, not really. But can I, uhm… make a slight adjustment to this arrangement?”

“Sure,” Loki hums, and then he’s being tugged completely into Tony’s lap and against the man’s chest, his head falling back onto a firm shoulder and every drop of tension in his body being drained. Tony gently kisses his temple, and it’s all Loki can do to not just _melt_. Jesus _Christ_.

“You can continue,” Tony pipes after Loki doesn’t say anything for a few moments. Loki simply purrs and leans into his friend in response.

“No, this is cool,” Loki laughs, tucking his face into the curve of Tony’s neck, “I like this.”

Tony makes this noise that’s simultaneously pleased and huffy (isn’t it weird how easily Tony can contradict himself in a single incident?), tightening his arms around Loki’s middle in the most _awesome_ way possible and saying, “Would you be willing to do it every day?”

Loki really wants to just say _yes_ without thinking, because fucking _hell_ , does he want to be held like _this_ ,by _Tony_ , _every **day**_ (and I swear to God that he _doesn’t_ have a pair of ovaries; these are years of neglect and a lack of meaningful relationships talking, here; not an overload of estrogen). That would be the best, most truthful response to Tony’s question if he was answering it literally, right? But here’s the thing: Tony isn’t _asking_ it literally.

So, instead of fucking himself over, Loki sighs and replies, “I’m going to let you answer that yourself, okay?”

There’s a beat of uncomfortable silence before Tony concedes, “Yeah, that’s probably for the best.”

Phew. Crisis averted (for now).

Taking Tony’s election not to speak as permission to go on, Loki shifts his position and starts, “Then there was Freyr.”

Tony _hmms_.

“Freyr was… gosh, how do I even start?” Loki wonders, taking a deep, stuttering breath and screwing his face up in thought. Eventually, he manages, “He was a lot like me, actually, but lightyears different at the same time. It’s kind of hard to describe him.”

“Why?” Tony asks. The question is dumb and unnecessary, but Loki can see the intention behind it; Tony just wants him to _keep talking_ (he’s obviously not worming his way out of _this_ situation).

“Well, he _lies_ ,” Loki blurts out, feeling exceptionally _stupid_ as he does (I mean, come _on_ ; how eloquent was _that_?), “So it’s not like there’s anything that’s real or genuine about him, if that makes any sense.”

“Are you saying that the same can’t be said for you?” Tony jests. Loki drives an elbow into his stomach, draws a sharp, rough laugh from the man’s throat.

“ _Yes_ , that’s what I’m saying!” Loki replies somewhat matter-of-factly (wow, what a _douche_ ), and Tony’s laughter intensifies at his response, “ _I_ lie and cheat for a reason, and a _good_ one, too. Freyr only cares about getting laid or getting money, and _he_ doesn’t have an asshole of a sibling or the shittiest parent known to man. _He_ doesn’t have bipolar disorder. He’s just fucking _greedy_.”

And honestly, Loki’s kind of being a huge (I mean, hee- _uge_ ) hypocrite here. He really is, not to mention that it’s totally abnormal for him to make up such elaborate excuses for himself (especially when it’s so much easier for him to just wallow in a sea of self-loathing and misplaced guilt). But, when you get to the very bottom of his feelings, Loki considers himself _wronged_ by Freyr and offended by his ways. What right does _he_ have to act like such a jackass, to think so highly of himself and so lowly of others?

No right at all.

Loki huffs quietly, continues, “Freyr would always spin these ridiculous, unbelievable stories that would just blow all of our minds. He loved to be noticed, loved being the center of attention, and he was sneaky as all get out.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” Tony points out evenly, deftly walking his fingers up Loki’s sides. His breath is warm and steady as it tickles against Loki’s ears.

“I do? I’m sorry,” Loki deadpans (because he really _doesn’t_ give a single fuck about how he’s making this sound), ignoring the odd snort-laugh Tony emits in response.

“I’m not sticking up for this guy or anything, but maybe it’s just in his nature to be a little shady?” Tony half-chuckles, half-suggests in a _stepping on thin ice_ sort of tone.

"I’m sure it is,” Loki retorts, trying not to sound too vexed (and failing, to tell you the truth), “That doesn’t make him any less aggravating or upsetting, does it?”

Tony makes a slightly comical sturgeon-face, rejoins, “Touché.”

Moving to card his fingers through his hair, Loki picks up where he left off with, “And then there was Freya, and she and Freyr were only similar on the surface. They were both clever and quick, but Freyr was all want and desire while Freya relied on her logic and what she knew. He was this free-spirited, sensual thing of a person. She was witty and hard-hitting. Does that make sense?”

Tony pauses, blusters an uneasy, “I guess?”

O _kay_. Let’s go slow, shall we?

Barely reining in a sigh (Holy shit, why the fuck is he so irritated? Oh yeah, his cousins.), Loki tries, “Let’s see, uhm… yin and yang. You know that, right?”

“Mm-hmm,” Tony hums, relocates his hands to Loki’s arms, which he grasps lightly. He’s just having a fucking _ball_ , can’t you tell? (And seriously, why _wouldn’t_ he be?)

“And how yin is dark and intense and yang is bright and positive?” Loki elaborates, and when Tony nods, he says, “That’s what Freyr and Freya were like. So different, yet so alike.”

“Oh, how dramatic, how poetic,” Tony lilts in an _extremely_ sarcastic and mocking manner, and Loki can’t help but laugh at his friend’s tone.

“ _Yes_ , very,” Loki purrs, spreading his arms to stretch and humming with pleasure at the shivery sensation of Tony dragging his fingertips along their undersides. _Ooohh_ , that’s nice.

“So, do you still talk with your cousins?” Tony asks, humor evident in his voice. He rests his head against Loki’s, affectionate and casual, and _damn_ is it hard for Loki to not be moved/amused/flustered/delighted by Tony’s ever-gentle, ever-seeking touches, by the soft, warm pressure of the man’s fingertips and the oh-so obvious _love_ beneath them. Jeeze, was that sappy or what?

“Not really, to be honest,” Loki awkwardly admits. His answer fails, terribly, to make him feel as bad as he should.

Tony bends his arms and clutches at Loki’s shoulders like a human backpack of sorts, imploring, “Why not?”

Loki scowls, his eyes flicking about as if he’s reading invisible text. This question is kind of-sort of- _really_ hard for him to answer properly, mostly because when he tries to, his mind starts to act like a malfunctioning printer noisily spitting out pages upon pages of incoherent junk.

“Loki?” Tony prods, nudges his nose against Loki’s cheek like a neglected dog (oh, Tony, always so canine).

“I’m trying to come up with a response that sounds vaguely rational,” Loki coughs, only half-lying.

“Just _talk_ ,” Tony urges in a rushed, encouraging manner, and Loki is suddenly reminded of the day he broke down and poured his heart out to Tony, remembers how much of a mess he was as he cried and raged on about _gasp_ , the accident. Tony said the exact same thing he’s saying now a year ago to get him to spill.

And what do you know? Lightning _does_ strike in the same place twice.

“It’s just that my cousins are all so _different_ from the way they used to be, when we were children and the world revolved around us,” Loki starts to rant, uninhibited and indiscriminate, “And I’m not saying that _I_ haven’t changed, because I _know_ I have, but that doesn’t mean I can’t have a problem with _them_ , right?”

“Right,” Tony replies. He sounds sincere.

“Freyr is suddenly this lying, two-faced _jackass_ I hardly recognize, Balder never really cared about me to begin with, and all Freya wants is for us to just play all day long and be little kids again,” Loki goes on, “And they _all_ acted horribly, _horribly_ , after the accident happened. It was nearly impossible for us to connect with each other, because being friendly with one person basically meant betraying everybody else. We were stuck picking sides like immature schoolchildren; Balder and Thor sat on the right of the fence, Freya and I on the left, and Freyr took all the heat because he _really_ liked riding barbed wire,” he pauses to swallow a mouthful of saliva, and when he speaks again, his voice is slightly hoarse, “Then there’s the fact that all I can think about every time they cross my mind is how things will probably never be the same with us, _ever_.”

There’s a stretch of spongy silence then, in which Tony absorbs Loki’s words and Loki makes a valiant attempt to not completely freak the fuck out. You know that feeling where you’re a vase, and the water that fills you is pure emotion? Loki feels like his metaphorical vase has been fumbled, like he’s just wasted half of his contents and is barely salvaging the water he has left. He feels hurt. He feels pissed.

Tony ultimately manages to say, “Well, fuck. I’m sorry.”

“Sorry you got tangled up with me?” Loki bitterly retorts, “ _I’d_ be, with my mountain of issues…”

Tony scoffs and moves his arms ( _again_ ; goddamn, Tony, are you capable of sitting still?) to hug Loki tightly, orders, “Don’t say that. Don’t even _think_ that.”

“Easier said than done,” Loki sighs. He closes his eyes, sniffs quietly.

And then there’s this moment where it’s painfully obvious that Tony doesn’t know what to do or say or feel, where Loki kind of wants to start screaming like a banshee, or lay down and not get up for awhile, or just do _nothing_ , nothing at all. _Dammit_ ; you know what _that_ means (depression).

Eventually, Loki feels Tony’s lips pressing against the crest of his cheek, hears the man softly say, “I’m going to tell you something, okay? Don’t read into it.”

Loki nods, leaning into Tony and refusing to peel his eyes. Tony makes a soft noise and kisses him again, gentle and just a little desperate.

“First,” Tony begins, “It upsetsme when you say things like you just did. You’re acting like you’re _so_ unworthy of my company, and I’ll tell you right now how absolutely fucking _ridiculous_ that is.”

“Tony…” Loki begins to protest, his face screwing up in anxiety and dissent, but Tony quickly shushes him.

“I’m not done,” Tony says in a hard voice that does its intended job of shutting Loki up pretty fucking well, “I don’t _ever_ want you to think that you’re not worth something, and _yeah_ , I know I sound like a fucking counselor or a cheerleader, but really? _I don’t care_. If me giving you pep talks every time you do this self-loathing thing will make you stop, or at least ease up on _hating_ yourself, so be it.

“I know exactly what it feels like to not be able to stand yourself, because I go there, _a lot_. I _also_ know that there’s always somebody who _does_ give a fuck about me, who gives a lot of fucks about me, and that I’m worth that. Why?” he pauses for emphasis, “Because if I wasn’t, would I have it in the first place?”

Loki doesn’t respond. He just bites the inside of his lip and tries with all his might to deny Tony’s words. He isn’t very successful.

And, while we’re here, I’d like us all to take a moment to appreciate how fucking _genius_ Tony can be, and how amazing and rare it is that he takes the time to show it like he’s doing now. It may not be obvious, but he thinks _really_ _hard_ about stuff like this, and he thinks about it all the time.

“Second,” Tony continues, shifting his position just slightly, “I’m _sorry_ , and I kind of feel like a dick for forcing you to talk about your cousins, okay? You don’t have to tell me this story. I won’t get mad.”

 _Wait_. That wouldn’t be right at all, now would it?

“No, Tony,” Loki croaks, and he coughs at the brokenness of his voice, “I’ll tell you.”

Tony hesitates for a few seconds before asking, “Are you sure?” Loki knows that the man is refraining from outright telling him _No don’t do it I don’t want you to have a nervous breakdown noooo_.

“Yeah,” Loki shrugs, throwing on a small smile. Someone wise (or terribly stupid and influential) once said something about how smiling when you’re unhappy tricks you into feeling joyful. Loki’s subconsciously trying for something to that effect.

Tony nervously clears his throat, starts to say, “I mean, if it hurts your feeli–”

“I’m going to tell you regardless of how I feel,” Loki cuts him off, “And before you say anything, this isn’t me engaging in some form of self-torture. I just feel like you should know this about me, if that makes any sense.”

Another pause, then Tony is conceding, with an odd mixture of uncertainty and pride, “As long as you’re okay with it.”

Loki forces his body, which has gone incredibly tense, to relax as he says, “I’m fine, don’t worry. My cousins weren’t wholly bad.” He smoothes his fingers over his brow, mentally gives his spirits a swift kick upwards, and gives a deep sigh. Tony squeezes him for what he guesses is reassurance.

Shall we begin?

**_He’s ten, now. Saucier than he was before and sharper than a tack. Hobbies include reading adult books and acting like he’s better than everyone else._ **

**_Loki is minding his own business and reading_ The Catcher in the Rye _aloud to Chinook, the too-sweet tramp that’s been hanging out in the garage and bothering Mercury for the past two years, when Thor and Balder burst into the room like two wind gods on a gravely important mission._**

**_“Put your hands up!” Thor cries, charging towards Loki and sticking his stupid, fat little finger in the other boy’s face. Loki blinks._ **

**_“Why would I want to do that?” Loki questions. Chinook barks and hops off of the love seat they’re perched on, starts to sniff and nip at Thor’s bare, muddy ankles._ **

**_“You’re under arrest!” Thor exclaims just as Freya peeks her head around the screen door, and before Loki can say anything in objection, Balder is grabbing him by the wrists and hauling him out of his seat._ The Catcher in the Rye _tumbles to the floor and closes with a resounding_ snap _._**

**_“Hey!” Loki shrieks, fighting against Balder’s oppressively tight grip, “You made me lose my page!” Chinook continues to yap and circle around Thor’s feet._ **

**_Instead of responding to Loki’s complaints, Balder looks straight to Thor (predictable,_ ugh _), who sets his face in a hard, stony glare and bites, “Stop whining. You’re under arrest.”_**

**_Yeah, Thor. We heard you the first time._ **

**_“That’s not fair!” Loki protests, scowling something fierce at his brother. Fortunately (unfortunately), Freya decides that it’s time to insert her oh-so important and immensely helpful suggestions (and by_ suggestions _, I mean_ demands _)._**

**_“You have to tell him his rights, Thor!” the girl points out, bouncing her perky self over to where her cousins stand. Loki glowers a bit at Freya, pissed even if she_ is _sort of-kind of trying to help him out in a very roundabout way._**

**_“Oh, yeah!” Thor gasps, his mask of anger temporarily giving way to realization. Then he’s getting back up in Loki’s face and reciting in an obviously rehearsed fashion, “You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say or do can and will be used against you.”_ **

**_“In a court of law,” Freya adds with a smirk. Little bitch._ **

“Oh my _God_ ,” Tony laughs, “She’s like Tinker Bell.”

Loki chuckles quietly, says, “If Tinker Bell had the intellect of Napoleon Bonaparte, then yes. Very much so.”

**_Thor brushes Freya’s correction off and attempts to continue, “You have the right to a… to a…”_ **

**_“You have the right to an attorney,” Freya cuts in, all but stealing the show for herself, “If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be appointed for you,” she giggles, “That’s me, by the way.”_ **

**_“Oh, goody,” Loki grumbles, still trying to wrestle out of Balder’s grip. Freya’s smile drops a bit, but she keeps on going (it’s nearly impossible to get that girl down)._ **

**_“Do you understand these rights as they have been read to you?” she asks._ **

“Technically they didn’t read me anything, but that didn’t matter much to them,” Loki notes.

**_“Sure I do,” Loki retorts, “What I don’t understand is why I’m being apprehended in the first place.”_ **

**_Ooh, he’s mad._ Real _mad. You know how I can tell? He’s using big words like_ apprehended _to confuse everybody._**

**_“You’re under arrest,” Thor barks, and oh my_ God _, we_ fucking know _already, “for bossiness, delin… daylin…”_**

**_“_ Delinquency _,” Freya inputs in a clipped tone, placing her hands on her hips in an eternal gesture of_ I’m sassy and a whole lot smarter than you _, “And general tomfoolery.”_**

“They really fucking planned that trial out, didn’t they?” Tony questions, and his tone is simultaneously baffled and amused.

“They must have,” Loki replies, “I don’t see how they could have been so straightforward otherwise. Freyr and Freya were exceptionally bright, don’t get me wrong, but I sincerely doubt that Thor and Balder would have played their parts so perfectly without a grand deal of preparation.”

**_“Do you even know what delinquency_ means _?” Loki challenges. He figures that if he can’t best his cousins with brute force, what with their overpowering strength and determination, he might as well use his intelligence against them. It works. Most of the time. (Translation: Not always/close to never.)_**

**_Thor, Balder, and Freya are anxious and silent for a moment, obviously at a loss. Loki gives a hint of a smirk; not enough to provoke anger in his cousins, yet saying_ I’ve got you _as well as a full-blown pokey tongue/devilish grin combination would._**

**_But then, because the universe has hated Loki from the very beginning (it made him a Snow White among a family of Apollos and Rapunzels, after all), Freyr’s voice is coming from the back doorway, and the four children turn to watch him as he clarifies, “Delinquency is defined as wrongful, illegal, or antisocial behavior.” He’s reading from the thick dictionary Odin keeps in his office, the one that’s off-limits to them (mostly because they’d use it as a building block or a notebook instead of a reference source). Loki scowls._ **

**_“That’s father’s dictionary!” he cries as soon as Freyr puts an end to his self-righteous announcement. His frown deepens when the boy grins, taunting and haughty, in response._ **

**_“He’ll never know. We’ll be gentle,” Freyr drawls, snapping the tome shut and rubbing its leathery cover._ **

“You know how some children from high class families adopt their parents’ attitude?” Loki questions, “And they act so hoity-toity and prissy and inherently _better than you_ that you want to shoot yourself in the head just because you’ve _looked_ at them?”

There’s an extremely brief moment of silence then, broken when Tony and Loki share a quiet laugh at the irony of Loki’s statement. Considering the fact that they both come from well-to-do families, it’s kind of funny that Loki’s getting as fired up as he is.

“Yeah,” Tony chuckles, clunking his chin against Loki’s shoulder.

“That was what Freyr and Freya were like. Mostly Freyr,” Loki elaborates, gesturing his hands accordingly.

“So, wait…” Tony interjects before Loki can dive back into story mode, “You’re saying that your cousins acted like their parents. Does that mean that _they_ were douchey smartasses, too?”

“Oh, _Lord_ ,” Loki snorts, “Don’t even get me _started_ on my aunts and uncles.”

“They’re _that_ bad?” Tony asks, and when Loki starts to amble his way down the bitch trail, he quickly adds, “You don’t have to go into detail! I’m only curious.”

“Curiosity killed the cat,” Loki says, just to be annoying and because he can. Tony pinches his side, and a sharp laugh escapes him. Damn ticklishness to hell.

“ _Loki_ ,” Tony whines, pressing his knuckles into said man’s back (because he likes to be a pest, too; more so than Loki by a very long shot).

Loki huffs, but it’s not a vexed or indignant expression. He says, “If you _must_ know, three out of five of my aunts and uncles are, as you say, _douchey smartasses_ , and they just happen to be the parents of my cousins. The other two are pretty great, though.”

“I see,” Tony hums. He sounds satisfied with Loki’s answer.

**_Loki glares hard and venomous at Freyr, protests, “We could all be grou–”_ **

**_“Shut up!” Thor cuts him off, his voice high and whiny. His words are like arrows dipped in poison, jammed right into the back of Loki’s head._ Ouch.**

**_Loki’s mouth hangs open even after words have stopped coming out of it, and he turns as much as he can without twisting his arms off (Balder’s got him tight, man) to stare at his brother with wide, shocked,_ hurt _eyes. Thor responds to his gaze with a strong, forceful one of his own, faltering only for a moment before he’s setting his mouth and cocking his chin up like the ass he truly is._**

**_And then, before anyone has time to freak out or stop this_ atrocity _from commencing, Thor and Balder are grabbing Loki almost completely off the ground and dragging him out the door and into the backyard, Freyr, Freya, and Chinook following close behind them. Loki is quite literally kicking and screaming (seriously; how the_ fuck _does Aunt Volla not hear this nonsense taking place?) as his cousins carry him down the porch steps, across the yard, and into what is possibly the most barbaric place to dump him; Mercury’s doghouse._**

**_That’s right. The_ doghouse _._**

“That’s some messed up shit, man,” Tony laughs, and his words come out sounding bitter and extraordinarily nonplussed. Loki doesn’t say anything in response, but it’s fairly obvious that he agrees.

**_Thor roughly shoves Loki into the empty doghouse, proclaiming, “You’re in jail, now!” like it’s something Loki’s supposed to be_ happy _about. Balder shoves a bamboo lattice against the entrance to act as a makeshift cage-door._**

**_Freyr leans down to peer through the matrix, and says with a positively_ evil _smirk, “Now you’re gonna wait for your lawyer.”_**

**_Sounds like fun. Bucketfulls of it._ **

**_Loki doesn’t respond verbally. Instead, he deigns to glare daggers of painful and bloody_ death _at his cousins and brother until they decide to walk away, huddling close and whispering amongst themselves. And you know what he does then?_**

“Guess,” Loki prompts, glancing at Tony. Tony makes a slightly uncomfortable face, tenses up.

“You cried?” he tries hesitantly, his shoulders rising just a bit.

**_He cries._ **

Tony frowns.

**_He crawls into the darkest corner of the doghouse, curls up into a tight ball, and cries. And cries some more. And cries_ some more _. Because nothing is ever fair for him, and he’s being imprisoned in a doghouse and put on trial, and everybody seems to hate him for no reason at all, and Aunt Volla can’t save him, and he’s lost his place in_ The Catcher in the Rye _, and his wrists_ really _hurt, and he’s_ alone _. So utterly_ alone _._**

**_After a million horribly lengthy moments of total breakdown, Loki hears a rapid rap, rap, rapping at his cage door. He looks up to see Freya crouched in front of the doghouse, her skirt pooling around her knees and her grin bright and sunshiney, as per usual. He fails to be warmed by her blatant enthusiasm._ **

**_“Keys!” Freya chirps, placing her small, dainty hand against the lattice imprisoning Loki, “Come closer!”_ **

“ _’Keys’_?” Tony asks, “Where did _that_ come from?”

Loki pauses, lost. For a moment, he can’t even _begin_ to recall how the slightly annoying nickname his cousins always use came to be; that habit was formed quite a _long_ time ago. Then it hits him like an eighteen-wheeler on an icy road, and he starts to laugh _really fucking **hard**_.

“What?” Tony questions, moving to give Loki a simultaneously bemused and bewildered look. Loki shakes his head, still chuckling.

“It’s _really_ stupid,” Loki laughs, and he shifts his position so that he’s slung somewhat diagonally across Tony’s lap (because it’s been kind of awkward talking to Tony without being able to look him in the face).

“Well, that’s even better,” Tony replies with a grin. He has a great smile, he does.

Loki smirks a bit, and Tony raises his chin at him in response. Loki sticks his tongue out. Tony waggles his eyebrows. And then they’re doing this _ridiculous_ face-making at each other, until both of them can’t bat an eyelash or quirk a lip without bursting into laughter at the other’s most likely _hilarious_ expression.

“ _Tell_ me,” Tony whines when he can cease his laughing long enough to do so, leaning far into Loki’s face and pouting his perfectly perfect pout, “Is it an inside joke you’ve sworn not to share?”

“Something like that,” Loki shrugs, and when Tony’s nose touches his just slightly, he chuckles, “We used to play this game where we’d act like superheroes.”

Tony is still and straight-faced for about a half-second. As soon as that’s over, he’s ducking his head (so that he doesn’t up and _explode_ right in Loki’s face) and laughing just as hard as he was moments before.

Loki bites back a grin (he’s _not_ embarrassed; just slightly bashful and a little protective of his childhood pleasures), elaborates, “All of us had special names and powers.”

“I’m guessing your name was ‘ _Keys_ ’?” Tony snorts, poking Loki’s stomach playfully. Loki catches the man’s hand between his palms and smiles.

“It was,” he says a bit triumphantly, feeling a rush of pride at the memory of his alter ego, “And I had the power to control ice or something like that. I could freeze people with my touch.”

“That’s adorable, Loki,” Tony coos, lays his head against Loki’s left shoulder. He wiggles his fingers against their confines and asks, “What about Thor?”

“His name was Thundakat,” Loki half-blurts, and when Tony laughs, sharp and rough, he says, “I’m dead serious. And it wasn’t Thun- _der_ -cat. It was _Thundakat_ , and if anyone pronounced it otherwise, Thor would get really angry and make a huge fuss correcting them.”

“He controlled the weather, didn’t he?” Tony presumes. His breath hits the side of Loki’s neck and reminds him how to feel warm all over.

“That he did,” Loki answers, smiling a toothy smile and briefly shutting his eyes, “And he’d throw ‘thunderbolts’ at everybody, which were really just old, bent-up coat hangers.”

Tony shakes his head affectionately, grins, and sighs, “Sounds like loads of fun.”

**_Loki frowns and looks away, his eyes finding a mud-spattered rubber ball sitting in the opposite corner of the doghouse. He mumbles, simple and not-so-sweet, “No.”_ **

**_Freya presses closer to the bamboo matrix, blocking out most of the light making its way into the darkness of the doghouse, and croons, “Aww, Loki, come on. I’m here to help you, remember?”_ **

**_“You’re doing a stellar job,” Loki murmurs against his arm, sniffing quietly._ **

**_“What?” Freya asks, and she’s practically smashing her face into the lattice at this point, “I can’t hear you.”_ **

**_“It doesn’t matter,” Loki replies in a harder, slightly louder voice. He just wants Freya (and the rest of his cousins, for that matter) to leave him be; never mind that if they did, he’d probably be stuck in this makeshift jail until Mother and Father get home, and Lord knows when_ that _will happen._**

**_But he_ won’t _be left alone. Such is the nature of the world to leave him upset and angry with everything._**

**_Freya hesitates for a moment, then says, just a tad desperate, “Well, what does matter is your innocence.”_ **

**_What._ **

“She seriously fucking said that?” Tony asks. The query sounds more like an incredulous statement than an actual question.

“You’ll find that blatant selfishness runs in my family,” Loki replies, releasing Tony’s hand so that he can sling his arm around the man’s shoulders, “And believe me, the things they say shock me as much as they do you.”

**_It only takes two seconds for Loki to pick his jaw up off the ground and magically transform confusion into rage. He’s just a regular Criss Angel, isn’t he?_ **

**_“My_ innocence _?” Loki challenges, scrambling (rather gracefully) over to the entrance of the doghouse and getting in Freya’s face the best he can to snarl, “_ You’re _the one who put me in here and called me_ guilty _in the first place!”_**

**_Freya’s face contorts into an affronted expression, and she argues, “I didn’t do_ anything _!”_**

**_“Exactly. You didn’t_ do _anything, therefore you let Thor and Balder and Freyr shut me up in here,” Loki retorts, clawing his fingers around the bamboo separating him from his cousin._**

**_“I’m only trying to help you!” Freya cries, her lips tightening and her face growing rosy red. The girl’s gray-green eyes are sharp and determined as she speaks, and Loki abruptly remembers that_ oh yeah _, Freya actually_ does _give a flying fuck about him._**

“Freya was my best friend except for Thor,” Loki says, “We always sort of revolved in the same circles, you know? She was witty; I was witty. She liked good music and cute boys; I just happened to like the same.”

(FYI: For the record, Loki is, technically speaking, bisexual. _Just saying_.)

Tony snorts a laugh at Loki’s comment and asks, quite sarcastically, “Did you have sleepovers to paint your nails and braid your hair?”

“ _Yeah_ ,” Loki replies, accenting the statement with a brief chuckle, “And we’d share secrets and tell on everyone else all the time. Freya and I were quite the pair.”

“So even though she was… the lovechild of Napoleon and Tinker Bell,” Tony interjects, drawing a small, modest laugh from Loki and pausing to snicker himself, “… you still love her.” The statement is either a cleverly disguised question or an outright assumption. Loki assumes it’s the first, and he pauses, bites his lip.

“Yes,” he replies after some thought, “I do. Did. Do.”

“Are you sure?” Tony snorts incredulously, raising his head off of Loki’s shoulder to throw him one of his Stark-patented _I’m onto you_ smirks.

“Not really, to be honest,” Loki admits. He smiles in a tight-lipped, sheepish manner, idly rubs his fingers against Tony’s bare shoulder (he’s a relentless tease, can’t you tell?) and says, “I mean, I _adored_ her when we were close, but now I never see her anymore.”

“That doesn’t mean anything,” Tony points out, quirking an eyebrow.

“Yes it does,” Loki retorts, and he grins when Tony gives him a dull frown (almost _nothing_ rags on Tony more than getting shown up, and that’s _exactly_ why Loki’s pulling out all the stops to do just that), “Because I _do_ love Freya, I do, but since I haven’t seen or talked pleasantly with her in three to four years, it’s like… like I love a phantom of her, or what she used to be. Does that make any sense, or am I just stupid and entirely too analytical?”

“All of the above,” Tony concedes, “Minus the stupidity.”

Loki isn’t at all offended. Especiallybecause Tony sweetens his words with a kiss to the cheek.

**_Loki wills himself into calmness and sighs, “I’m sorry.” He wants to say more, wants to tell Freya that he_ does _appreciate her concern, wants to excuse his actions on behalf of his anger, but he realizes that doing so would be unnecessary. Freya already_ knows _all of that; she can probably see it written clearly in his eyes._**

**_“Don’t be,” Freya peeps, kind of like a bluebird or something equally cute and feathered (because Freya is basically a bird in a little girl’s body), “You have the right to be angry.”_ **

**_Loki can’t argue with that. He casts his gaze to the ground and hopes Freya understands his silence. Which she_ does _, of course._**

**_“Look,” Freya says, drawing Loki’s eyes back up to her face, “It won’t be that hard for us to beat Thor, who’s our plaintiff, at his own game. I mean,_ look _at us.”_**

“Well, damn,” Tony laughs, “Isn’t she modest?”

“Freya is a bird and Tinker Bell and Napoleon and a princess,” Loki huffs, and he does this cool, swirly thing with his fingers as he adds, “All wrapped into one.”

“She sounds like a killer to me,” Tony jests. Loki grins a bit.

**_“We only have_ one _problem,” Freya goes on, emphasizing her words with an index finger pointed upward._**

**_“What’s that?” Loki asks. An arrow of trepidation pierces his heart._ **

**_“Freyr is Thor’s lawyer,” Freya replies. She doesn’t look_ half _as scared as she should be, and believe me_ , _she_ needs _to be fucking_ terrified _._**

“What’s so scary about Freyr?” Tony asks in a humorously offhanded tone, nuzzling gently against Loki’s cheekbone. Loki pulls away with the intention of shooting his friend a dirty look, but Tony is (unsurprisingly) quick and eager to follow after him. The man noses into the hollow of Loki’s cheek with a tiny smirk, and that’s about all it takes for Loki to just give up and _take_ the affection.

“ _Have_ you been listening?” Loki questions without much heat, and when Tony only laughs in response (the prick), he sighs, “Freyr and Freya are both geniuses, right?”

“I follow,” Tony hums nonchalantly, and if he isn’t being the hugest _douchebag_ of all time right now, and for no reason at all…

“What sets them apart is their morality,” Loki says, “Freya _always_ plays fair, but Freyr would never hesitate to cheat if it meant victory for him. _That’s_ what makes him so dangerous.”

Very out-of-the-blue, Tony asks, “Is he in school?”

Loki makes a face (that’s just a tad hilarious), pauses, then slowly replies, “Yes. Why?”

“What does he study?” Tony inquires instead of answering Loki’s question.

“Fine art. _Why_?” Loki snaps, and for the record, he is _not_ pissed off right now. A little vexed, maybe, but not outright _angry_. Sometimes it’s hard to tell the difference, I know.

Tony moves to flash a pacifying smile at Loki, gives an airy shrug, and says, “Well, I was just wondering whether or not dear-old Freyr wants to take advantage of his evil genius in the fields of law and science.”

“Oh, please,” Loki huffs, “Being a lawyer is too much stress and responsibility for him to handle.”

“He’d get money,” Tony inputs, and all Loki can think is _You must be new_ (even if he knows Tony’s not and is just trying to be argumentative and annoying).

“He already gets enough of that from his father, and he’s smart and calculating enough to trick some clueless, well-to-do fool into falling in love with his horrible self,” Loki retorts a bit testily.

Tony is silent as he makes a sturgeon-y face of acknowledgment. Loki leans forward, on impulse, to touch his nose to his friend’s (because _yes_ , he _was_ enjoying that tomfoolery from earlier), and he smiles when Tony moves closer to accommodate him.

“Basically, Freyr’s a shark and we’re deep in the water,” Loki chuckles. His words are slightly muffled in Tony’s jaw as the man continues his incessant nuzzling and kissing against his cheek. _Goddamn_ , does he want to return the favor.

**_“What?” Loki gasps, his heart suddenly a heavy stone in the cavern of his chest. Freyr_ can’t _be on Thor’s side; he just_ can’t _be._**

**_Freya notices the terror in Loki’s voice and frowns a bit, nervously bringing a pretty pink fingernail to her lips. She says, “Don’t worry. Freyr won’t be_ that _mean.”_**

**_“Are you kidding? He’s going to rip us apart!” Loki cries, rapidly running his fingers through his dark mop of hair in a blatant expression of anxiety._ **

**_“That’s my_ brother _you’re talking about,” Freya tersely reminds him, and this look of understanding and realization and_ horror _passes between the two children as soon as the words have left her mouth. That_ is _her brother Loki’s talking about; her cruel_ vampire _of a brother, and they’re going to have to confront his monstrosity very soon, ready or not._**

**_“Okay. I get it,” Freya concedes, the hard line of her body curving into a downhearted slouch, “You’re right.”_ **

**_Fuck_ yeah _, he’s right._**

**_“We need a plan, Freya,” Loki declares, “What are we going to do? What are_ they _going to do? How will we fight them?”_**

**_Freya silences Loki with an assertive up-turned finger, then starts to say, “Balder’s the judge…”_ **

**_“Oh, crap!” Loki moans, lamenting over the extremely legitimate assumption that Balder would probably rule in Thor’s favor even if all the evidence in the world proved against the boy._ **

**_“Wait!” Freya exclaims, shoving her finger through one of the square gaps in the lattice and poking it over the seam of Loki’s lips. She narrows her eyes as Loki moves, wide-eyed, out of her reach, and there’s a small stretch of silence before the girl continues, “_ Because _he’s the judge, you can wager that Thor and Freyr are going to take advantage of his bias and fear.”_**

**_Loki nods._ **

**_“_ Our _best bet is to confuse Balder,” Freya says, “Inflation. Propaganda.” She throws her hands up in the air. “Melodrama!”_**

**_“Shh!” Loki hisses abruptly, “You don’t want them to hear us, do you?”_ **

**_Freya goes still, then emits a slightly sarcastic giggle, flings a finger over her shoulder, and snorts, “They’re in the kitchen right now. They wouldn’t hear us if we were screaming at the top of our lungs.”_ **

**_Loki is struck with the memory of the very last cup of blueberry custard he’d been saving, and he lets out a lengthy mental wail of anguish._ Dammit _._**

**_“What we need to do is exaggerate your innocence,” Freya goes on in a firm voice, “That way, Balder will be just overwhelmed by the unfairness of your persecution.” (This is sounding a little like_ Chicago _, isn’t it?)_**

**_“Wait,” Loki cuts in, “Are you implying that I’m_ not _innocent?” He’d heard somewhere that the worst kind of lawyer is one that doesn’t believe in you. Hopefully Freya isn’t one of those._**

**_Freya hesitates for a moment before asking, “Who_ is _?”_**

“Amen to that,” Tony interjects, his voice a blaring thing of sound in Loki’s ear (because his mouth has been pressing at the base of Loki’s jaw for about three minutes straight, and _yeah_ , that’s a _long fucking time_ to be kissing in one spot). Loki moves the hand he has rested on Tony’s shoulder to run through the man’s messy hair, and Tony lets out a deep, purring noise of pleasure.

**_Loki doesn’t respond, deigning to just seal his lips and sit back on his haunches. The girl has a point, and they both damn well know it._ **

**_“All you need to do is be super weepy and really, really,_ really _cute,” Freya instructs, wringing her hands for emphasis, “And don’t get mad, okay? You get mad and we’re screwed.”_**

**_A pause, then Loki is saying, a bit reluctantly, “Okay.”_ **

**_“_ I’ll _do all the talking,” Freya assures him with a bright, terrifically sunny smile, “Don’t you worry about a thing.”_**

**_“Okay,” Loki repeats, this time with an even greater degree of uncertainty._ **

**_What if_ hewants _to fight for his innocence? And to speak up? And to be brave and strong? He’s never gotten a chance to do_ that _before._**

“So did you win on account of Freya’s stellar planning?” Tony asks. There’s an inkling of doubt in his words, like he already knows how shitty Loki’s answer will be.

Loki makes this weird, noncommittal noise and retorts, “Do I _ever_ win?”

Tony is speechless for about a minute, and Loki only knows to not go on telling his story because of the array of expressions that flash across his friend’s face during that period of time. On second sixty-one, Tony sighs, “You _kill_ me when you say things like that.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t hang out with me so much, then,” Loki jests with a smirk, doing what he does best and avoiding potential conflict like the plague. Tony gives him a sarcastic grin.

“Maybe _you_ should shut up and kiss me,” he counters a bit dumbly, already moving for Loki’s lips.

“Maybe _you_ shouldn’t constantly try to molest me,” Loki laughs, and the funny thing is that he’s palming Tony’s jaw and kissing at his lips as he’s saying this. Doesn’t _he_ make sense?

“Maybe _you_ should stop being so flawless,” Tony purrs. His voice is light, joking, but his gaze is dark and deadly serious, almost scarily so. Loki ceases his ministrations for a moment, stricken.

He’s thinking about Tony. He’s thinking about how the boundary between them only exists because _he_ (not Tony) says it does. He’s thinking about the rules adults would set for you when you were little, the ones that were constantly brought up but never really followed. He’s thinking about how long a week is. He’s thinking about his heart. He’s thinking about Tony. He’s thinking about Tony. He’s thinking about Tony.

“Maybe I should,” Loki says, raising his eyes to Tony’s, and it’s almost comical how fast his mood has dropped, how Tony immediately _knows_ it just by the look on his face. While we’re here, I’d like to point out reason number two why Loki loves Tony Stark: the man is fucking _sensitive_ to his feelings. Seriously.

Tony briefly kneads his lips together, leans his forehead against Loki’s. There’s a beat of awkward silence between them before he murmurs, “I’m just going to say that I love you and you’re really great. Because I can’t think of a better response.”

“That’s a _horrible_ thing to say,” Loki replies, and when Tony makes a face at him, he adds, “Not because of what you said. It was just a bad time for you to say it.”

And honestly? He feels like he’s the most terrible person in the world right now, because everything he says is _wrong_ (Like, really? How the _fuck_ can he tell Tony that such a wonderful compliment is _horrible_?), everything he does is _wrong_ (What the hell is the matter with him, denying Tony what they _hello?_ , both want?), everything he feels is _right_ (That’s just a given.), and everything he is is _wrongwrong **wrong**_ (Like always.).

Tony gets this weird, absolutely horrid look on his face, and then he’s shaking his head, looking away (Loki hates _that_ , that moment when Tony can’t even _look_ at him because he’s such a bitch), and murmuring, “I don’t know what to say.”

Loki knows he’s fucked up _bad_ when Tony is at a total loss for words, when he _himself_ can’t think of a goddamn thing to say.

Eventually, he asks (quite stupidly), “Why are you wasting your time on _me_ , of all people?”

Scowling, Tony replies in a clipped, short tone, “You know the answer to that.”

Loki does. He just refuses to accept it.

“But you could do so much better…” he starts to say, and this look of understanding and jealousy and _guilt_ passes between him and Tony for about a microsecond (because _shit **goddammit**_ , Tony’s _almost_ there, Tony’s _got_ a second choice, Tony _has_ this perfect/wonderful/awesome person he could be chasing after, and he’s got his fucking eyes on _Loki_ instead) before Tony’s expression morphs into something wretched, something _pissed_.

“What did I say to you?” the man asks a bit coldly, holding Loki’s gaze with dark, stormy eyes.

Loki blinks, remembering, and says with the autonomy of a robot, “You told me not to hate myself.”

(FYI: Just to be completely clear, Loki _absolutely_ appreciates Tony’s boundless praise and devotion for him. He really does. That doesn’t mean that his depression and self-loathing are magically irrelevant in the face of it, though; _if only_ things could be so simple. _He_ can’t flip a switch in his head and suddenly love himself, so why should Tony be able to?

I know it sucks. I _know_. I know that everything is imperfect and complicated and just _so_ unpleasant for all the people of the world, most of all Loki and Tony, but there are some things that just don’t change. When exceptionally wise, insightful human beings say _Anything is possible_ , they haven’t considered shit like _this_.)

“I told you to _never_ think you’re not worth something, especially not _me_ ,” Tony responds in a softer tone, nearly lionlike in the subtle, static tension tainting his demeanor.

“But I–” Loki begins, and when Tony makes to cut him off, he cries, “Wait! Let me say this, will you?”

Tony frowns, but goes obediently silent.

“This is what I’m talking about,” Loki says in a deliberately slow manner (he’s trying to get Tony to _listen_ ), “When I start acting like _this_ , I just… I can’t stand the fact that _I’m_ the one you want to waste your time on. And I’m going to be honest with you; you _are_ wasting your time.”

Loki ends his statement abruptly, almost as if he’s been slapped or burnt. He closes his eyes for a moment, attempting to force down the surge of hurt pushing its way up inside him.

Tony angles his head thoughtfully, asks, “Can _I_ be honest with _you_?”

“Of course,” is Loki’s soft reply, and he’s only a little terrified to hear what Tony has to say (which is fucking _ridiculous_ , by the way). Ironically, Tony looks just as scared.

“If I’m wasting my time, I don’t mind it one bit,” Tony says a bit shakily, “It doesn’t matter whether you’re happy or sad, pretty or ugly, on top of the world or falling to pieces; I still want and adore you more than anything. Even when I think you’re going to make me shoot myself in the head or just _explode_ , I can’t even think about not loving you.” He pauses for emphasis. “Okay?”

Loki swallows thickly, echoes, “Okay.”

“I’m not asking you to feel exactly the same about me. I’m not,” Tony goes on with a slight, airy smile, “I’m only asking you to feel the same way about _yourself_.”

 _There_. That’s what makes the guilt Loki’s carrying around so much heavier, so much _worse_.

Loki doesn’t say anything in response, opting to just examine every inch of Tony’s beautiful, _beautiful_ face. You know _that_ feeling, where you’re caught between crying and laughing, where your stomach rolls and your head spins, where you have absolutely no idea what to do with yourself? Yeah. That’s what Loki’s going through.

Tony returns Loki’s observatory gaze, prompts, “Tell me more about the trial, yeah? Give me one more reason to hate Thor’s guts.”

Loki feels a small tug at the corner of his mouth. He tucks his baggage into some unseen pocket of his mind, bringing the trial to the forefront of his attention.

**_Loki and Freya have to wait for about five minutes (it feels like_ five hundred _) before Thor, Balder, and Freyr emerge from the house, energized with food and certain victory. The three boys all but drag Loki out of his makeshift prison to the center of the yard, where they force everyone to form a sloppy circle. Loki ends up squished between Freyr and Freya. Chinook noses his way into the center of the circle as Freyr raises his head to speak._**

**_“We’re going to have a fair trial, everybody,” the little shit announces authoritatively (Lord, how_ dramatic _), and Loki resists the urge to call bullshit then and there, “Balder’s the judge because he’s the most unbiased.”_**

“And really, that’s just a crock of _shit_ ,” Loki says a bit tersely, “In all actuality, _Freyr_ is probably the most unbiased of us all. The only reason why Balder’s the judge is because the trial was designed for Thor to win.”

**_“Freya will be Loki’s lawyer and I’ll be Thor’s,” Freyr goes on, glancing between the brothers, “Thor’s the plaintiff, Loki’s the defendant.”_ **

**_“That means you’re the bitch,” Thor interjects, shooting Loki a haughty smirk._ **

**_Loki’s first instinct is to_ one _, counter Thor’s grin with a nasty look (because_ really _, they are_ way _too young to be,_ gasp _, swearing), and_ two _, jump across the circle and attack his ass. But Freya’s holding his hand_ so tightly _, and he really wants to win this trial, and he promised that he_ wouldn’t _get angry. So, instead of following his heart (he should probably do that more often), he assumes the best wounded-puppy expression he can muster, slouches his shoulders, and deepens his eyes to show just how full of_ woe _he is. Thor’s smirk shrinks slightly._**

**_“Is everybody in agreement over this arrangement?” Freyr asks, effectively ending the moment of tension. As soon as the question is out in the air, four pairs of pale, dagger-sharp eyes direct themselves at Loki (because everybody knows that if_ someone _has a problem, that someone is Loki). And what does he do?_**

“You didn’t say anything, did you?” Tony cuts in, nearly startling Loki with the abruptness of his question. Loki glances at his friend, takes in the open-door, solemn sort of expression on his face.

“I didn’t,” he replies in an even tone, “And it’s sad, because that’s _exactly_ what they expected me to do. They all knew I was too scared to speak up; they were just teasing me.”

Tony makes a quiet noise of acknowledgement and looks down, returning his head to Loki’s shoulder.

**_When it’s clear that the silence hanging over the children’s heads isn’t going to be broken, Freyr claps his hands together and says, “Let’s get started, then.”_ **

**_Chinook barks._ **

**_Thor and Balder get to work pulling two lawn chairs from the porch to the back of the yard and stacking three cartons of bricks (yes,_ bricks _, and before you say anything about that load being too heavy for eleven year-olds, remember the time in your life when you and almost every child around you believed that you were all absolutely invincible). Freyr sprints into the house for about thirty seconds before returning with a Bible (fast, isn’t he?), which he hands to Balder. Then, Thor and Loki are lining up to take their oaths._**

**_“Do you swear to tell the whole truth and nothing but the truth so help you God?” Balder asks in his quiet, mumbling tone as Thor places his hand on the Bible._ **

**_“Yeah!” Thor crows, and Loki is both too pissed and too scared to correct his brother._ **

**_Without missing a beat (because_ nobody _corrects Thor), Balder quickly turns to him and repeats his question, which Loki replies to with a grave, “I do.”_**

“I always thought that that oath was rather silly,” Loki softly notes, “Because you know that half the people who go to court aren’t planning on telling the truth.”

“Would _you_?” Tony asks almost idly, walking his fingers along the mattress to take Loki’s hand.

“If it meant incriminating myself, absolutely not,” Loki replies. He threads his fingers with Tony’s, feeling a minute twinge of guilt only for a moment.

**_Thor and Freyr take their places on one lawn chair, Loki, Freya, and Chinook on the other, and Balder climbs to the top of his makeshift tower._ **

**_“Court is now in session!” Freya announces to the world (and_ really _,_ Balder _’s the one who should be doing all of this), “Thor’s going first.” She pauses to turn to said boy, commands, “Go sit in the middle.”_**

**_Loki tenses as Thor does what he’s told (_ woah! _, he’s capable of_ that _?), and he opens his mouth a bit hesitantly to ask, “Shouldn’t we sit_ nextto _the judge?” That’s what they do on TV, right?_**

**_“Shouldn’t you stop talking?” Thor rudely retorts, and it’s all Loki can do to not break down into a primitive, screaming mess._ **

“You know what bothers me the _most_ about Thor?” Tony cuts in, his voice hard and blade-sharp with barely concealed anger.

“What’s that?” Loki asks in what he hopes is an offhanded, even manner, because honestly? He won’t be able to finish this tale if he lets himself get hung up on every instance Thor being a bag of dicks (aka, this _whole fucking story_ ).

“The fact that he really didn’t – _doesn’t_ – have a reason to be such an ass to you,” Tony grumbles, shifting into a more upright sitting position and scowling vexedly.

Loki snort-laughs, “Are you kidding? I was an annoying fucking kid.”

“Oh my God…” Tony sighs, shakes his head.

“I’m serious!” Loki goes on with a laugh, “I was annoying, and bossy, and an insufferable smartass.”

“But you didn’t mean anything bad by that,” Tony argues. He’s using his _Why do I even try with you anymore?_ voice, so Loki’s certain that he’s pigeonholed his friend  quite a bit tonight.

“That didn’t matter to Thor,” Loki points out, “Just like it didn’t matter to me that he was ‘ _never serious_ ’ or ‘ _just playing_ ’ when he’d degrade me almost every day.”

Tony makes a hilariously conflicted face and whines, “Why do you make it so hard for me to agree with you?”

Chuckling, Loki replies, “I promise I don’t try to.” He levels Tony with a mildly curious look, leans closer to him and asks, “Why are you so aggravated? Is it me?”

“No, no!” Tony immediately protests, almost too fast for truthfulness. He does the weirdest, most wonderful thing and tucks his face against Loki’s, mumbles, “I’m just… emotional.”

On the verge of yet _another_ dispute (and _of course_ , this kind of stuff _always_ happens to Loki), Loki quickly climbs out of Tony’s lap, much to the man’s chagrin, and stretches out on the mattress. He tugs lightly on Tony’s hand and says, “I didn’t want to get your feelings all in a rut. I’m sorry.”

Tony is silent for a particularly tense moment, after which he snorts, moves to lie facedown next to Loki, and replies, “Too bad, ‘cause you’re a pro at doing just that.”

Loki scowls.

“Kidding,” Tony laughs, folding his arms underneath his chin, “Don’t worry about me. You know how weird I get sometimes.”

Loki briefly mulls over his friend’s words in his head. He turns, just begging to get a divine slap in the face, to hug against Tony’s side and notes, “I do.”

“Keep talking,” Tony murmurs, snuggles into Loki’s embrace with a small yawn, “Ignore me.”

Draping his arm across Tony’s back, Loki sighs, “Never.” He keeps going, though.

**_Loki’s distress goes completely unaddressed in the wake of Thor’s ugly comment. Straight-faced and eager for interrogation, Freya crawls off of her lawn chair to stand before her cousin._ **

**_“Mister Skywalker,” the girl begins (and isn’t that a funny way to preface a question, considering that all the children share the same surname?), “I must ask why you’ve filed a complaint against your brother.”_ **

**_Freya’s using this carefully neutral, subtly questioning tone that’s just enough to put you slightly off-kilter. It’s the voice of a lawyer, and Loki loves her unconditionally for it._ **

**_“Well, he’s a know-it-all,” Thor answers a bit matter-of-factly, cutting his eyes to Loki as he speaks._ **

**_“Maybe he’s just smarter than you,” Freya counters._ **

**_“Objection!” Freyr suddenly exclaims, and he effortlessly manages to scare the living hell out of everyone (including Thor) with his outburst, “That wasn’t a question!”_ **

**_The children anxiously turn to Balder for a ruling. In response, the boy pauses, screws his face up for a moment, and says, “Not overruled?”_ **

“Oh my _God_ ,” Tony interjects against his arm. Loki smirks.

**_“You’re supposed to say ‘_ sustained _’,” Freya swiftly corrects._**

**_“Sustained,” Balder amends, curling into himself and shielding his face with his hands._ **

**_Loki, Freyr, and Chinook return their eyes to Freya, who returns her eyes to Thor, who gives Freya a triumphant, haughty smirk. Freya doesn’t so much as bat an eyelash._ **

**_“What has Loki ever done to you?” the girl asks evenly, casting a sideward glance Loki’s way. Loki watches Thor intently, making sure that everything about him oozes sorrow and betrayal. Thor just happens to find the ground infinitely more fascinating than everything else in that moment (naturally)._ **

**_“Well, he’s annoying,” Thor replies roughly, “And he’s always telling Mom and Dad what we do. And he acts like he knows_ everything _, and he cries all the time, and he’s just really horrible, okay?” Thor’s voice grows progressively louder,_ angrier _, as he goes, and it gets to the point where he’s bold enough to look Loki dead in the face and say, “Nobody likes him.”_**

**_Do you hear that? That’s the sound of Loki’s heart splitting in two uneven, asymmetrical fragments. They hurt like a cancer, Thor’s words, especially when Loki knows how_ true _they are._**

“ _Loki_ …” Tony whines, high and desperate. Loki raises his head off of his friend’s shoulder blade to return the longing gaze getting thrown his way, and it’s almost impossible for him to keep his cool when Tony’s looking at him with such adoration, such _hurt_.

“I like you,” Tony says, “I like you a lot.”

“I know, Tony,” Loki breathes with a small, sad smile. He squeezes Tony’s sides, drawing a small groan from the man, and adds, “I like you, too.”

Tony’s lips curve into a pleased smile as he murmurs, almost like he’s telling a secret, “I wish I could have been there for you.”

For a moment, Loki can’t even say anything in reply. Tony’s gone ahead and done what he does best by rendering him absolutely speechless, and _really_ , Loki doesn’t know if the sudden sensation of suffocation he’s experiencing is a sign of something wonderful or something horrible. Probably the former.

“I wish I always had you,” Loki manages to choke out, and then he’s squishing the life out of Tony, tightening his arms around the man’s middle and pressing soft, loving kisses against his shoulder and cheek. With a smile only Tony’s allowed to see, he whispers, “You’re absolutely perfect.”

“Only because you think I am,” Tony rejoins. He’s all-out grinning, now. “Keep going.”

(FYI that is more like subtext than actual important information: Loki’s pretty sure the only reason why he’s going _at all_ , in terms of both what’s happening now and his life in general, is Tony. True story.)

**_Freya’s response is just shy of appalled. Her pale face goes rosy red and her eyes narrow to predatory, dangerous slivers of gray-green as she retorts, “Have you ever entertained the thought that maybe_ you’re _the_ only one _who feels this way?”_**

**_Now this right here is a prime example of Freya’s genius. That she can form her words as eloquently as a glassblower forms glass, all while disguising accusation as a question, is both admirable and frightening at her age._ **

**_Thor doesn’t reply at first, his mind obviously having been jumbled by Freya’s verbal assault. He fumbles for an answer, eventually coming out with, “I don’t have to, because it’s obvious everybody else feels the same.”_ **

**_“Elaborate on that for me,” Freya prompts (will you just_ look _at how much swagger this little girl has?)._**

**_Thor sets his brow, says, “Loki never lets us have fun. He’s always worrying about the rules, and getting caught, and what Mom and Dad are gonna think of us if they find out. And that makes us_ really _angry.” He turns to Freyr. “Right?”_**

**_“Right,” Freyr echoes._ **

**_Thor looks to Balder and repeats his query. Balder nods silently._ **

**_Loki can barely contain the contempt bubbling up like boiling water inside him. He can feel his eyes starting to burn with tears, his stomach starting to churn and roll, his skin starting to itch with anger. Thor would really go_ there _, would do_ that _to him?_**

**_“Is that so?” Freya challenges, and the sound of her voice reminds Loki how to breathe like a normal human being and see in colors other than red._ **

**_Of course, Thor immediately shatters Loki’s forced state of zen by exclaiming, “Yeah, it’s so! Loki’s so annoying, only Mom and Dad wanna hang out with him!”_ **

**_Freyr emits a hushed ‘_ oooh _’. Balder winces. Loki gasps. Chinook barks._**

**_“And not even Dad!” Thor thunders on, “Only_ Mom _wants him, and that’s just because she has to!”_**

**_Loki slowly lowers his head so that his messy mop of hair hides his damp, reddened face. He’s never felt so ashamed or wronged in his whole life, never been so scared of what could happen to him in the future because of what’s happening to him now. What if he ends up like those kids in middle school, the ones who have raccoon eyes and wear a lot of black and listen to music so sad it makes your soul cry? And what if he turns into one of those high-schoolers that hang out in alleyways and smoke grass all the time and live in holes in their rooms? And what if he never finds a job and lives with Mother and Father until they die, and he buys twenty cats with all the money he’s inherited, and he withers away and dies all alone, and nobody will know until one of the neighbors smells him, only to find that he’s been eaten by his pathetic feline friends?_ **

**_“That’s enough, Thor!” Freya interrupts._ **

**_“Objection! Not a –” Freyr starts to say._ **

**_“Shut_ up _, you!” Freya cuts her brother off, not bothering to turn and do with her eyes what she’s already accomplishing with her voice. Freyr’s expression melts into impassive vacancy (and really, this just proves how much better Freyr and Freya mesh together compared to Thor and Loki; even while on opposing sides, they still work as a team… sort of)._**

**_Prissily, Freya clamps her hands down on her hips and flips her golden locks out of her face to show how very authoritative and righteously_ pissed _she is. She fixes her eyes, now wide and round with anger, on Thor, who’s just radiating pure douchebaggery._**

**_“Do you care about Loki, Mister Skywalker?” Freya asks, the end of her question tinged with venom and hurt. In that moment, Loki knows that Freya loves him. He_ knows _, and that’s pretty much the only reason why he’s not totally breaking down right now (even though he_ is _quite close to doing so)._**

**_Thor doesn’t hesitate in answering his cousin. In a tone far too self-assured, he replies, “Yeah, I do! But that doesn’t mean I like him.”_ **

“Can I keep you?” Tony asks abruptly. Loki angles his head to look at his friend as he goes on with, “Because I really just want to lock you in my body and never let you get hurt ever again.”

“I’d love that,” Loki hums, and he suddenly realizes how sleepy he truly is (the only reason he hadn’t noticed until now is because he’s buzzing with that special electricity that must be written in Tony’s genetic code or something).

Tony pulls this ridiculous face that is a miraculous mixture of distress and triumph, which, of course, Loki laughs at. He says, “I hate Thor. I hate him, I hate him, I hate him.”

“Don’t,” Loki pleads a bit weakly, “I do enough of that for both of us.”

“But–” Tony starts to snap, cuts himself off so he doesn’t say something _too_ offensive before just giving up and growling, “I want him to implode on himself and die, or be erased completely from the universe.”

“Tony, that’s terrible,” Loki scolds, frowning just a bit, “He’s not _that_ bad.”

(Haha. Loki made a joke, guys.)

“Look at what he did to you!” Tony argues, and then there’s this brief, terrifying moment of silence, during which Tony realizes the magnitude of what he just said and Loki tries extra hard (and fails) not to read into what his friend means. Here we go again.

“Am I really so horrible?” Loki asks as neutrally as possible, his tone almost robotic in nature (which is a good thing this time around).

“It’s not you _yourself_ ,” Tony sighs, and he’s got this _Why do I possess speech?_ look plastered on his face as he attempts to explain himself, “It’s what you go through. If it weren’t for Thor, you wouldn’t be bipolar, and you wouldn’t be so depressed and angry all the time, and you wouldn’t have to hide in your own house and cry yourself to sleep an-”

“ _If it weren’t for Thor_ , I wouldn’t be who I am today, and you most likely wouldn’t be my friend,” Loki cuts Tony off in a voice so straightforward and confident, he isn’t completely sure it’s his own, “I’d be an entirely different person if Thor was never in my life. I’d probably be a total asshole.”

“Are you saying you aren’t already?” Tony jokes, and Loki doesn’t even waste his energy getting self-righteous and worked-up. He just lies against Tony and makes a noise that can barely pass for laughter or amusement.

“I get what you’re saying,” Tony clarifies after a non-awkward beat of stillness, scratching a hand through his hair and yawning softly, “Go on.”

Loki pauses, gives Tony an affectionate squeeze and murmurs, “I _adore_ you, you know that?” For some obscure reason, he absolutely _needs_ Tony to know this before he continues.

Tony grins, replies, “I adore you, too.”

Loki can almost hear the sonnet dying to come after that declaration (and _really_ , he is in no way comparable to a summer’s day, even if Tony likes to think he is).

**_Freya’s features mold into something sad and tired; an unfitting expression for her always-smiling, always-beautiful face. She asks, “And how do you think Loki feels about that, hm?”_ **

**_Thor’s brows knit together in indignation as he cries, “Why does it matter? We’re_ angry _, and we deserve vengeance!”_**

“That attitude is what ruined me for life,” Loki remarks, “That horribly pompous, entitled attitude Thor and Freyr – and even _Freya_ – walked and _still_ walk around with absolutely destroyed me.”

“At least you didn’t end up like them,” Tony muses.

**_There’s a pregnant pause then, chock-full of knowing and downright_ wrongness _. Loki has no idea how he’s going to live past this very moment, doesn’t know why he’s not spontaneously combusting or something_ right the fuck now _, because_ shit _, he’s crying so_ hard _and his eyes are so_ red _and he feels so_ weak _, but he’s barely making a noise and he’s holding most of it in and_ oh God _, please let him die. Please have mercy. Please._**

**_Freya doesn’t say anything for a long time. Her bravado breaks down like a dying car engine, gives way to helplessness and a simple loss for what to do. Thor and Freyr smirk and snicker all the way through her slow descent._ **

**_When she can finally bring herself to speak, Freya says, obviously defeated, “No further questions.” She retreats back to her lawn chair and plants herself next to Loki’s silently weeping, violently shaking form. Loki can just barely hear the whispered barrage of ‘_ I’m sorry _’s directed his way. He gives Freya no response._**

**_A slightly triumphant air about him, Freyr rises from his perch to approach Thor. He’s an owl, now, ominous and predatory with eyes all around his head. Loki feels Freya take his hand and squeeze it tightly as an icicle of dread pierces his heart, and both children know how royally_ fucked _they are now. With Freya having lost the battle against Thor and Freyr come to play rough, there’s pretty much no chance of Loki winning now. As per usual._**

**_“Mister Skywalker,” Freyr starts, just as his sister did, and Loki really fucking_ hates _the way his cousin’s cold, clinical voice sends frost beetles crawling up his spine and ice serpents writhing through his innards, “I’m going to be really upfront with you. Is that alright?”_**

**_Thor gives an affirmative smile and replies, “Sure.” (Of course.)_ **

**_Freyr hints a small smirk, nearly purring when he says, “Wonderful.” He stuffs his hands in the deep, baggy pockets of his cargo shorts (which are fucking_ Tommy Hilfiger _, by the way) and takes an incredibly lawyer-like step to the side as he asks, very straightforwardly, “On a scale of one to ten, how aggravating is Loki?”_**

“You _can’t_ be serious,” Tony groans, a small whine hooking on the end of his statement.

“Believe it or not, I am,” Loki sighs. He rubs his chin against Tony’s shoulder, says, “It gets worse, so buckle down.”

**_“What exactly are you asking me?” Thor rejoins, and just to be clear, he’s only doing this so he and Freyr can expand on their already large repertoire of scorn and contemptuousness (wow, what a big word for something so_ small _)._**

**_Freyr’s smirk grows just shy of toothy as he elaborates, “In terms of personality, appearance, voice, habits, and everything else,_ how aggravating is Loki _?”_**

**_“Objection!” Freya interjects, “Argumentative!”_ **

**_“Overruled,” Balder retorts almost immediately._ **

“That was a legitimate objection,” Tony interrupts, drawing a quiet, halfhearted sigh out of Loki.

“So? It was practically _prophesized_ that Thor and Freyr were going to win through Balder’s bias,” Loki replies bitterly, “It didn’t matter how rational Freya and I were. It was just about Thor winning.”

**_“Answer the question,” Freyr demands in a show of mock-authority (which is stupid and unnecessary when everybody_ knows _he’s on Thor’s side)._**

**_“Twenty-three,” is Thor’s dreadful reply, and_ goddamn _does Loki just want to punch his brother’s freaking teeth out right now._**

**_“Why do you say that?” Freyr prods, running a hand through his golden hair. It’s a redundant question to ask considering that Thor’s basically answered it about_ ten fucking times _in_ ten different ways _already._**

**_Oh well. I guess it’s just_ National Let’s Screw Loki Over and Smile While We’re Doing It Day _._**

**_“His voice makes me want to scream,” Thor pipes, and the tone of his voice is so damn_ chipper _that you could swear he’s talking about how pleasant the weather is or something, “And he doesn’t look like any of us. He’s probably_ adopted _for all we know.”_**

**There _. That’s all it takes for Loki to forget why he’s keeping his mouth shut, why he’s playing this stupid game to begin with, why he even bothers with manners_ at all _._**

**_“You_ ass _!” Loki explodes, shooting up like a Jack-in-the-Box and flinging an accusatory finger his brother’s way. Fuck_ decency _. Fuck it! If they want Loki to be the bad guy, he’ll_ be _the fucking bad guy._**

**_After all – he_ always _tries to give them what they want. Why should he stop now?_**

**_“How dare you! Wh-who the hell do you think you are?!” Loki exclaims, ignoring Freya’s helpless pleas for him to_ calm down _and_ it’s okay _and_ stop it, you’re making it worse _. Thor’s face grows red and puffy, almost as if he’s_ shocked _that Loki would speak up against the abuse he’s doling out (which is understandable when you remember that the younger of the two of them has never done such a thing before)._**

**_“Shut up, Loki!” Thor retorts a bit shakily, straightening his back to make himself look more in control, “We’re all thinking the same thing!”_ **

**_“I’m not going to_ shut up _!” Loki shrieks, “N-not when_ you people _insist on treating me like dirt!”_**

**_“Freya, you need to_ calm _your_ client _,” Freyr cuts in, casting a dark glare on his sister and cousin. Loki shoots Freyr the nastiest look he can muster as Freya makes a hushed, weary noise._**

**_“Brother, he’s hurt,” the girl whines, and Loki can’t help but redirect his tortured gaze to Freya’s face, can’t help but desperately try to tell her to_ shut up shut up shut up _with his eyes. Freya refuses to look at him, chooses instead to focus on her twin._**

**_“_ Freya _,_ calm _your_ client _,” Freyr reiterates in a hard, clipped tone, fixing his sister with a look that communicates a lot more than it lets on. Loki can almost hear the silent agreement passing between the twins, and it reminds him that_ yeah _, he really_ is _fighting this battle alone._**

**_Balder emits a quiet whimper as Freyr turns back to Thor with a huff. Freya places a dainty hand on Loki’s shoulder, which Loki jerks off like it’s burned him._ **

**_Freyr pauses for a particularly tense moment before gesturing to Loki and sighing as if he’s oh-so fucking_ exasperated _, “Is this what you were talking about?” Loki twitches with anger._**

**_Thor barely seems sure of himself when he replies, “Yeah. Yeah. Definitely. Yeah.” The boy’s eyes are focused on the ground, and it’s almost painfully apparent how very_ embarrassed _he is now._**

**_Freyr, however, doesn’t seem to share his cousin’s sentiments at all. Coldly, he taunts, “Don’t tell me you’ve changed your mind, Thor.”_ **

**_“Objection,” Freya interrupts a bit weakly, and Loki barely resists the urge to snarl at the sound of her voice, “Not a question.”_ **

**_Before Balder can eject a predictable ‘_ Overruled _’, Freyr snaps, “Withdrawn.” He doesn’t say anything for a few moments, choosing to simply stare Thor down like the hawk he is._**

“You like to compare Freyr and Freya to birds, don’t you?” Tony notes, his voice soft and raspy with fatigue. Loki smiles at the tone, drops a quick kiss on his friend’s scalp (in his book, a sleepy Tony is an adorable Tony).

“They’re just really birdlike to me, I suppose,” Loki answers, idly carding his fingers through Tony’s thick mess of hair and carefully working out any tangles he comes across (which is kind of gross, to be honest, but Loki can’t find it in himself to care that much), “Freya’s small and perky, and Freyr’s just plain daunting.”

Tony makes a deep noise of contentment and leans his head into Loki’s touch. He mumbles, just a bit distractedly, “Can you just talk and talk and never ever stop? That’d be pretty nice.”

Loki hums a laugh, taking Tony’s comment as an invitation to continue his story.

**_When Freyr eventually deigns to speak, he says, “No further questions.” It vaguely occurs to Loki that_ oh my God, _Freyr’s_ hit a dead end _(no thanks to Thor’s hesitation) as the boy turns to his sister and prompts, “Your witness.”_**

**_Thor scrambles frantically off of the ground upon Freyr’s signal to leave, practically_ hurling _himself into his seat as fast as he possibly can. He looks angry, but at what exactly? Loki’s not sure._**

**_No matter, though. Now everybody’s staring at Loki, waiting for him to step forward and get obliterated. A heavy silence hangs in the air, thick like butter and charged with electricity. Loki doesn’t move._ **

**_“Come on, Keys,” Freya eventually urges, “It’s_ our _turn.”_**

**_Loki turns to level Freya with a look cold enough to frostbite, retorts, “_ Our _turn? Our turn to what? Fail horribly?”_**

“ _Oooh_ ,” Tony hums, and Loki’s not sure whether the utterance is one of awe or pleasure until the man adds, “Now things are getting _interesting_.”

“Were they not before?” Loki asks, stilling his fingers’ motions in Tony’s hair.

“They were,” Tony assures him, “It’s just that _now_ you’re actually defending yourself. That changes everything.” Loki can legitimately _hear_ the period at the end of Tony’s sentence, that’s how abruptly the man ends it, and he emits a small laugh when Tony’s hand comes grasping behind his head like a hungry crocodile, grabs his wrist, and gives it an insistent _tug_.

“Keep doin’ that,” Tony demands, obviously referring to Loki’s unusual method of grooming, “I’m melting here.”

Loki obliges to Tony’s request, says, “Don’t fall asleep, Elphaba.”

A low chuckle escapes Tony, and the man replies, “I promise I won’t."

**_Freya is at a loss for words, and she helplessly opens and closes her mouth a couple thousand times. Freyr coughs, more to break the incredibly awkward silence than catch anyone’s attention._ **

**_“I don’t want to play this game anymore,” Loki declares when he’s sure that nobody’s going to speak up or do anything special. He might as well have said ‘_ fuck you all, I’m going to Mars _’, though, because as soon as the words are out of his mouth, everybody (with the exception of Balder, of course)_ explodes _._**

**_“No, no, no!” Thor howls, jumping up to stomp over to where Loki sits. He clamps his hands down on his brother’s shoulders and shakes him, says, “You have to, you have to, you have to!”_ **

**_At the same time, Freya’s reaching for the collar of Loki’s t-shirt and crying, “Loki,_ please _! I-it’s not that bad! It’ll be okay! It’s just a game!”_**

**_“No backing out!” Freyr tries to yell over his sister and cousin, and suddenly, he’s right where the action is, leaning over Thor’s shoulder and growling, “Only wimps back out.”_ **

**_Chinook starts to bark his little head off, then, and the sensory overload is enough to bring Loki to tears. He’s hyperventilating, now, tangled up in Freya’s persistent yanking on his shirt and the nonstop push-pull-push-pulling of Thor, and dear_ God _, what is he going to do now, what is he going to do now,_ what is he going to do now?**

**_Eyes squinting, mind blanking, and heart pumping, Loki lets out a strangled, helpless cry: “Please, leave me alone!”_ **

**_The exclamation fails to compel Thor and his cousins to stop, so Loki repeats it, louder this time._ **

**_“_ Leave me alone!”**

Loki is pretty much forced to pause in his storytelling when Tony deftly and cleverly turns onto his side and hooks him into one of those perfect nut-and-bolt hugs only he can bestow. He doesn’t say anything – he just holds Loki in the circle of his arms like he’s meant to or something.

After a moment of just lying there, Loki asks, “Tony?”

“I love you,” Tony mutters against Loki’s shoulder in response, warming the man’s skin through the thin fabric of his shirt, “That’s all.”

Loki chooses not to respond verbally. Instead, he rests his head against Tony’s and brings a hand up to rub along his spine. He swallows against the odd but not at all atypical impulse to cry – all the half-repressed negative emotions inside of him are starting to fight their way to the surface after having gong too long without air.

Normally, Loki’d release those feelings around Tony without a second thought, but now? He has to finish this story before he lets them breathe. If he doesn’t, well… he’d feel like a proper asshole, he would.

**_Thor, Freyr, and Freya go silent and still like a balloon deflates after Loki’s second outcry, and the only sounds in the backyard are the tiny gasps and sobs coming from Loki’s throat, Chinook’s sharp, ceaseless yapping, and the chirping song of a blackbird. That is, until Loki actually speaks._ **

**_He plans to say something harsh and biting, plans to be the strong one this time, but because he’s_ Loki _and the universe just thrives in his constant misfortune, things don’t work out that way._**

**_“Why?” is what ends up coming out of his mouth. The word is broken and defeated, escapes Loki like a trickle of water from a leaky faucet, and it leaves him strangely out of breath._ **

**_For a moment, no one answers Loki’s question. Thor, Freyr, and Freya exchange uncertain, slightly guilty glances, but no response comes forth from their lips. Ironically, it’s_ Balder _who replies._**

**_The boy slowly peels his hands away from his face and says, “Because that’s the way it is.”_ **

**_Truer words have never been spoken._ **

“Loki, I’m seriously considering locking you up in here,” Tony interrupts in a wounded tone, tightening his arms around said man and shifting his position so that he can look Loki in the face.

“ _Shh_ ,” Loki swiftly hushes his friend. He closes his eyes and leans their foreheads together, quietly pleads, “Let me finish this, okay? I’m almost done.”

Tony nods silently, and even though Loki can’t see the look on the man’s face, he can just imagine how _horrible_ it is.

**_Loki lets out a pitiful whine-sigh-sob sort of noise and tears himself from Thor and Freya’s grasps. He staggers from the lawn chair on which he sits, briefly falling to his knees as he does, and bolts for the house, Chinook hard on his heels. His tears refuse to stay put, now, and they begin their descent down his cheeks as Freya calls after him and he bursts through the back door._ **

**_Loki comes to a grinding halt as soon as he’s in the house. He closes his eyes, breathes like he’s had his head underwater for half an hour, and quickly tries of to think of the most secure/secretive/inconspicuous room in the house:_ **

  

  * **_The living room is completely out of the question._ **
  

  * **_He and Thor’s bedroom, too (it’s much too obvious)._ **
  

  * **_The bathrooms aren’t very comfortable, and people need to use them…_ **
  

  * **_The kitchen is full of food, and where food is, children are as well._ **
  

  * **_Father’s study is off-limits at all times._ **
  

  * **_Mother and Father’s bedroom is pretty much the same when they’re not home._ **
  



**_Loki ultimately goes for Mother and Father’s bedroom, simply because it’s both forbidden and comforting in the way all parents’ bedrooms are. Roughly scrubbing the moisture from his eyes, the boy hauls Chinook into his arms and slip-slides his way to his chosen destination, making sure not to alert Aunt Volla to his presence._ **

**_Loki quietly closes the door behind him, only allowing himself to_ really _start crying when he hears the telltale_ click _of the latch. A symphony of sobs, hiccups, and sighs streams out of him as he crawls into his parents’ bed, and he keeps Chinook snugly wrapped in the circle of his arms even as he burrows beneath the blankets and curls into a ball tight enough to make the dog squeak in discomfort._**

**_He’s not angry anymore. Now, he’s just disappointed, and scared, and_ ashamed _. How could he let something like that happen to him? How could his_ family _hurt him so? And why would they? And why_ him _? There are always too many questions and never enough answers (which is to be expected, of course)._**

**_Loki cries until he can’t cry anymore, eventually slipping into a turbulent, fitful sleep._ **

“The end?” Tony asks a bit hopefully. Loki knows that the man isn’t being rude or disinterested, knows that Tony only wants this story to be over just as much as he does.

“Not quite,” Loki sighs. (This sounds familiar, doesn’t it?)

**_Loki wakes about an hour later to find the sun much lower in the sky, Chinook gone, and the house a great degree louder. He listens to the clamoring voices coming from down the hallway, and the half-asleep, logical portion of his brain tells him that_ oh _, the rest of his family has come home now._**

**_Dammit._ **

**_Loki is shoving his upper body off of the mattress when the door opens, and his eyes immediately land on those of his mother. He gasps, almost as an afterthought._ **

**_“Loki?” Frigga asks, and Loki takes in the lightness with which she carries herself and the smile plastered on her face, so easy and_ free _it almost hurts to look at in his sadness._**

**_“Momma…” is the only thing Loki can manage to say before he’s choking up, bowing his head, and rubbing at his eyes. Frigga drops the purse on her shoulder to the ground and makes her way over to the bed, her face contorting in confusion._ **

**_“What’s the matter, darling?” she asks, bending at the waist and making an anxious attempt to meet her son’s eyes. Her perfect smile disappears, gives way to a faintly distraught grimace, and Loki just absolutely_ hates _himself for putting a frown on her face._**

**_Loki parts his lips to speak, but it’s nearly impossible for him to articulate the jumble of thoughts and feelings in his head at the moment. He groans abortively and raises his gaze to Frigga’s, vainly hoping that she’ll understand his failure to communicate._ **

**_Frigga’s expression quickly turns into one of alarm. She hastily takes a seat on the edge of the mattress and asks, “Why are you all alone? Have you been crying?”_ **

**_Loki sniffs, his eyes beginning to burn with tears once more, and he replies to his mother’s second question with a simple, “Mm-hmm.”_ **

**_He wriggles his way out from under the quilt, crawls over to Frigga, and practically throws himself into her lap like a baby seal on a snowdrift. That’s when the floodgates open again, and then he’s just_ lying _against his mother and soiling her gorgeous,_ gorgeous _sundress with his wretched tears. Here he is_ again _, running to mommy because he can’t hack it on his own.l;_**

**_“Oh, no!” Frigga cries, carefully taking Loki’s small body into her arms and clutching him tightly to her chest, “What happened, love?”_ **

**_Burying his face in Frigga’s shoulder, Loki chokes out, “I don’t wanna be here anymore.”_ **

Tony makes a pained noise of distress and presses closer to Loki, who’s staring a hole into the ashtray on the nightstand and trying so very hard not to break the fuck _down_ at the moment.

**_Frigga doesn’t say anything for a few moments, just holds Loki close and rubs a comforting hand against his back. Her voice is quiet and rueful when she replies, “_ I _want you to be here. I love you.”_**

**_His mother’s words both warm Loki’s heart and intensify his tears, and Loki winds his arms around her neck to ground himself, to tell her that he loves her back without saying a word._ **

**_“Did your cousins upset you?” Frigga questions in a hushed, careful tone. When Loki nods, she adds, “Thor, too?” Loki nods again, and the sigh that comes out of his mother is nothing short of disappointed._ **

**_“Look,” Frigga huffs, pulling Loki away a bit so that she can see his face, “I’m not going to make you tell me just what happened yet, but I want you to know that_ whatever _they did to you doesn’t have to mean a thing as long as you don’t let it, Loki. Do you understand that?”_**

**_Here’s the thing: Loki understands Frigga_ just fine _. Putting that kind of thing into practice, though?_** **_Easier said than done._ **

**_But instead of saying all that (doing so would be kind of difficult right now when he’s got eyes full of tears and a throat constricted with sobs), Loki nods yet again to express his acknowledgment._ **

**_Frigga smiles softly at the gesture, and she leans forward to drop a loving kiss on Loki’s cheek. Loki lets a soft, comforted sigh escape him as Frigga asks, “Now, how about we get some food in that stomach of yours and forget about this for awhile?”_ **

**_Loki’s initial reaction to his mother’s suggestion is less than positive; getting food means going into the kitchen, and going into the kitchen means going into the living room, and going into the living room means having to confront Odin and Thor and Freyr and Freya and Balder and Uncle Tyr and Aunt Zisa and Aunt Sol and Aunt Volla and_ oh God _, why, why,_ why _?_**

**_Loki’s apprehension must show on his face or something, because suddenly Frigga’s steeling his confidence by kissing his cheeks once more and saying, “I’m here, darling. I’m not going to leave you all alone.”_ **

**_That’s pretty much all it takes for Loki to give in. After wiping his eyes and sniffing quite vigorously, the boy lets Frigga raise him up and carry him down the hallway. He won’t feel better for the rest of the day, or the rest of the week, or the rest of the whole damn_ summer _for that matter._**

“You know how people say _whatever doesn’t kill you only makes you stronger_?” Loki asks a bit hoarsely. He’s clinging to Tony now, digging his chin into the man’s shoulder and refusing to look away from the nightstand.

“Yeah,” Tony murmurs in reply, moving his lips against Loki’s temple in a way so perfect it _kills_ him.

“It’s bullshit,” Loki croaks, letting his eyes slide closed in his fatigue and disgrace. You know that feeling that’s like heartburn in the way it ignites a flame in your chest and makes you all hot in the most unpleasant ways, that emotion called _shame_? It’s making a nest between Loki’s lungs right now, and _fuck_ does it hurt, does it _burn_ , does it have him panting ugly little breaths against Tony’s neck like he’s a sick dog or something.

To some people – a _lot_ of people – Loki has indeed grown stronger in his independence and fierce personality. Sometimes, Loki even agrees with them. But, when he’s being completely honest with himself, Loki knows that he’s only weakened after years of enduring this nonsense. This is how it works:

It starts with inferiority, which I’m going to say is the metaphorical root of the tree that is Loki. Then there are external factors to consider, like the longstanding abuse Thor and his cousins have dealt him, Odin’s habitual ignorance of him, Frigga’s near-oppressive defensiveness where he’s concerned, and the pressure of being a poor little rich boy with the strange affliction people like to call ‘ _heart’_. Throw in a crazy variable like a potentially fatal car accident and even more weird things start to appear in this equation, like bipolar disorder and a refusal to take medicine and random suicidal thoughts and an inability to _trust_ people. This tree starts to shrivel up and dry out now, because even though the rain is his friend, he’s too scared of it to even accept its help, and even though he’s the perfect home for so many, he’d rather be alone than share himself, even if would make everybody (including _him_ ) happy. Do you get what I’m saying?

Building walls around himself has gotten Loki absolutely _nowhere_ for the past decade, and there’s nothing strong or admirable about being a human prison, is there?

“Are you finished?” Tony asks when Loki says nothing further.

“Yeah,” Loki sighs, gingerly rolling out of Tony’s embrace and sitting up. He presses his palms against his eyes and feels wetness there, which he starts to scrub at like a stain that won’t come out.

Tony follows him avidly, scoots along the mattress so that he’s facing Loki at an angle. Loki pulls his hands away from his face to look at his friend, and his eyes, red and itchy with tears, don’t say much more than _Hey there, you_ and _Thanks for listening to my horrible story_. Tony frowns.

“That was terrible,” the man says, scratching his temple like he does when he needs a cigarette.

“I told you it wouldn’t be a fairy tale,” Loki retorts a bit roughly. He attempts to soften his words with a smile, but the expression is obviously forced and dripping with something far beyond sadness, something both he and Tony can see and feel.

Tony’s face darkens for a moment, and he groans softly, sighs, “I don’t want to say _I’m sorry_ , because that wouldn’t really help you at all…”

“You don’t have to say anything,” Loki cuts in, sniffing wetly, “I’m just glad you listened.”

Tony lips curl into a small, sheepish smirk as he replies, “That’s what I’m here for.” The comment both lifts Loki’s spirits and upsets him further; ain’t that a bitch?

After a long stretch of silence, in which Tony watches Loki with his perpetually puppy-like gaze and continues to scrabble away at his temple, Loki concedes, “It wasn’t all bad.”

Tony blinks, a flash of confusion dashing across his sharp features as he asks, “What?”

“Back then,” Loki clarifies, waving his hand in an abortive sort of gesture. He lowers his eyes to the mattress and says, “We had fun, too.”

“ _Like_?” Tony prompts, and when Loki glances up at the man, he’s giving him this adorably hopeful grin and goading, “What kind of fun?”

Loki pauses for a moment and lets his mind wander, scours his memory for something somewhat amusing to soothe the ache of less-than-pleasant recollections.

“Well, there was this one Halloween when we all dressed up as characters from the Wizard of Oz,” Loki recalls, propping his elbows up on his knees and cradling his chin in his hands, “Freya was Dorothy, I was Toto…”

“I bet Thor was the lion, wasn’t he?” Tony interjects, and this time, Loki actually allows himself to smile at the man’s habit of interrupting him.

“No, sir,” he rejoins, shaking his head, “He was the Scarecrow. _Balder_ was the Cowardly Lion, which was fitting because…” Loki hesitates, his smile turning into something prickly and sly. “I don’t know if you could tell, but Balder is kind of a pussy.”

Tony shrugs offhandedly and snorts, “Yeah, it was a little obvious.”

Loki huffs a halfhearted laugh, lets out a small, almost feline yawn. He swiftly picks up where he left off with, “Freyr was the Tin Man.”

“He has no heart,” Tony notes in the most deadpan voice possible, and that statement alone is enough to make Loki hide his face in his hands and laugh like a self-conscious schoolgirl who’s just been kissed for the very first time.

“Oh, the irony!” he crows, peeking through the cage of his fingers at Tony.

Tony smirks, reaches forward to grab Loki’s wrists and remove his hands from his face. The man kneads Loki’s palms with his thumbs and doesn’t say anything, just watches the other like it’s completely normal and polite to just sit and _gawk_ at him (which it is, in the context of their relationship).

“Then there was the night Thor and I decided to watch _A Nightmare on Elm Street_ ,” Loki goes on, his eyes lidding almost involuntarily, “It was really dark when we did, and we were watching this thing at like, one o’clock in the morning.” He glances up at Tony and quirks an inquisitive brow at him, asks, “You know that birch tree behind the house, the one right outside the window in the living room?”

Tony’s brows knit together at the question, and Loki can practically _hear_ the gears turning in his friend’s head (and _really_ , Tony’s uncertainty is totally understandable when you consider the fact that every time he’s been to Loki’s childhood home, it’s been supremely late at night and he’s been seriously, _seriously_ ill).

Eventually, Tony lets out a nervous laugh and replies, “Sorry, but not really.”

Loki shakes his head dismissively and gives a glib, airy smile, nearly murmuring as he recounts, “Well, we were at the part where Freddy is calling Nancy, right?” Tony nods. “All of a sudden, _that_ tree knocked against the window _so damn hard_ , and Thor and I just fucking _exploded_ because of it.”

Tony’s face splits into an impulsive grin as he asks, “What did you _do_?”

“We _ran_ ,” Loki replies, a chuckle hooking at the end of his answer, “And what made this whole thing so memorable was the fact that we were both screaming at the top of our lungs and pushing each other down while we tried to get the hell out of the house, or at least out of the living room.”

“Did you go very far?” Tony inquires, absentmindedly bringing one of Loki’s hands up to his face and pressing the man’s palm against his jaw. Loki brushes his thumb along the crest of Tony’s cheek, watches how the gesture makes his friend’s eyes go all soft and dark like melted chocolate. He smiles.

“No,” is Loki’s response, “Thor and I were only inches out of the living room when our legs magically locked together. Mother and Father woke up to find us in a tangled heap on the floor, crying and laughing like we were losing our minds.”

Tony opens his mouth to speak, but Loki cuts him off (unintentionally, of course) as another memory comes to him. He tenses, notes, “Then there was that time we got candle wax and blood on the ceiling.”

Tony’s expression morphs into something hilarious and bewildered, and he questions, “How the hell did _that_ happen?”

“It was the day after the fourth of July and we had extra firecrackers,” Loki laughs, dragging his hand down to Tony’s neck and mimicking the smirk getting thrown his way, “Thor thought that lighting the things with taper candles, in _our bedroom_ , would be a _wonderful_ idea.”

“Why are you not _dead_ or seriously disabled?” Tony asks, a touch of humor evident in his voice. He quickly and carefully studies every patch of exposed skin he can find on Loki, searching for an old scar or something similar to one (doing so is a bit unnecessary, though; Tony’s seen Loki stripped down to his underwear more than a couple of times, so the chances of him having not seen such a blemish on his friend is unlikely, to say the least).

Loki cocks his chin up as a sarcastic, almost bitter nod to God or the Fates or whatever other cloud-sitting, life-governing, supremely holy being there may be out there, answers, “Thor got the brunt of the damage. We had to take him to the hospital for second-degree burns on his hands.”

“And you?” Tony asks, angling his head towards Loki.

Loki drums a playful beat against the side of Tony’s neck with his fingers, drawing a brief laugh out of his friend, and replies, “My fingertips got singed, but I was pretty okay.”

“ _Obviously_ ,” Tony says with just the right amount of snark and playfulness. He whines softly in protest when Loki pulls his hand away from his throat, but the sound is empty and meaningless when he’s still holding Loki’s other hand captive.

Loki yawns, leans forward as if seeking a kiss from Tony, but the two friends just end up bumping foreheads and cackling at the awkwardness. Their laughter is wanton and syrupy, a minor result of fatigue and the basic, almost animal need to be close and make merry, so to speak.

“You’re _weird_ ,” Tony chuckles, placing his hands on Loki’s upper arms and forcibly tugging him closer.

“I _am_ , aren’t I?” Loki retorts without much heat. He pushes weakly against the insides of Tony’s elbows, only to give up his struggle when the man presses a firm, sloppy kiss against his jaw.

Tony makes an odd, weary noise of contentment and transforms his single kiss into a relentless barrage of smacks and pecks, scatters them all over Loki’s face and neck like he’s making art or something. Every now and then he’ll pause to breathe, say in a voice so sugary it legitimately makes Loki _nauseous_ , “ _I love you_ ,” before continuing to construct his masterpiece of sorts.

Eventually, when Loki’s just about _lying_ on top of Tony and growing tired of ignoring the warmth swelling in the pit of his stomach (because _really_ , while the sensation is pretty pleasant for the most part, it wouldn’t be smart for Loki to dwell on it when it has such influence over his behavior), he finds himself announcing, without pretense, “I think one of the happiest nights of my life was the one before the accident.”

Tony freezes, his mouth hovering over Loki’s chin. He locks eyes with the man, asking without words ‘ _Are you okay, or should I get the **fuck** off of this thin ice before it shatters beneath my feet?_ ’.

Loki just smirks sleepily and whispers, “I’m fine.” He tilts his chin up until Tony’s lips are smushed against it, sighs softly when his friend turns such a peculiar situation into a proper kiss.

After a long stretch of nonverbal interaction, which mainly consists of Tony keeping on his incessant wooing and Loki playing a game of mental hopscotch, Loki makes yet another outburst.

“It was a Wednesday night,” he says, the end of his statement turning into a hiss-purr as Tony sucks a kiss to the corner of his mouth.

“We’re talking about this?” Tony questions in a soft, almost reluctant tone. Loki knows that Tony’s afraid of bringing him _there_ again, to that place where he’s alone and unreachable and drowning in a pool of his own tears, and you know what? He absolutely _adores_ the man for that.

“ _Yeah_ , we’re talking about this,” he replies, letting his head fall forward onto Tony’s shoulder as a yawn drags its way out of him. He allows his heavy eyelids to fall shut, jumps right into his narrative with, “Thor was sneaking out of the house to go to some party with Clint and Steve.”

“You knew Clint and Steve in high school?” Tony interjects, relocating his hands to Loki’s sides.

“ _Mm-hmm_ ,” Loki hums, drowsy and lethargic, “Steve moved to here from Kansas in my sophomore year, and Thor met Clint when they were freshmen.” He huffs a bitter laugh. “I hated them with a burning passion.”

“Are you implying that you don’t anymore?” Tony asks. His voice is carefully neutral, so much that it almost pisses Loki off (especially because he knows _why_ Tony’s speaking in such a cautious manner).

“I still do,” Loki admits without shame (wow, what a _dick_ ), “I’m just better at managing that hatred now.”

Tony snorts, “ _Really_? Now I’m almost scared to ask about what you did with _that hatred_ back then.”

“Oh, _Lord_ ,” Loki groans, weakly digging his fist against Tony’s ribs, “I wasn’t _that_ bad. Every other week I’d get really fed up with their shit and take it out on Thor, but that’s about it.”

“A _ha_ ,” is Tony’s dispassionate response. Loki resists the urge to start an argument with his friend (which isn’t too hard considering how fucking _tired_ he is).

“Anyways,” he sighs, backtracking to where he left off, “Thor was sneaking out. It was around midnight when he was attempting to do this, and earlier that day we had both gotten in a lot of trouble for breaking the back door.”

Tony’s face contorts in shock and bemusement as he echoes, “You _broke_ a fucking _door_?”

This is one of those moments when Loki realizes just how idiosyncratic his life truly is. _Normal_ people don’t get _candle wax_ and _blood_ on ceilings or break _doors_ or carry on with their _best friends_ like libertine fools or deliberately _torture_ themselves on a daily basis.

“ _Accidentally_ , of course,” Loki clarifies, “It’s a glass door, and we were throwing shit around like the teenagers we were.”

“Did you throw a goddamn _Oscar_ at the door?” Tony asks, his mouth curling into a pleased grin. He bows his head and nudges his nose against Loki’s temple like an anxious dog, gently squeezing the man’s sides as he does.

“It was a book that broke it,” Loki rejoins, gives his hand a flippant little wave, “Thor was aiming for me, but I had no intention of being hit with a tome bigger than my own fucking head.” He cuts his gaze to Tony. “Can I tell you my story now?”

“Go ahead, man,” Tony laughs.

Loki closes his eyes once more with a sigh, takes a short pause to regain his train of thought before he says, “I, uh… I didn’t want to let Thor get away, mostly because I’m a bitter, spiteful person, but also because I was tired of him leaving me alone while he went off to have fun with everybody else.”

“I’m assuming you acted on those feelings,” Tony hums.

“I _did_ ,” Loki replies, his voice a quiet, melodic murmur, “I told Thor that I was going to scream like a banshee and notify both Steve and Clint’s parents of their ‘extracurricularactivities’ if he took one step out of the house. That’s when he did something _ridiculous_.”

“What’s that?” Tony urges in a slightly amused tone.

Loki cracks a clever eye open at his friend, proclaims as if speaking of a hard-earned trophy or a prize of some sort, “He offered to take me with him.”

Tony’s eyes grow to the size of saucers at Loki’s declaration, and while his reaction is just a tad melodramatic, it’s reasonable when you consider just how _amazing_ and _rare_ Thor’s generosity really is (Thor? Being _nice_? _Get out_.). The man lets out a nervous laugh and splutters, “He _did_ that?”

Loki nods his admission, a small, almost unwilling smile tugging at his lips. He explains, “At first, I didn’t believe him. It was when he slung me over his shoulder and tried to _throw_ me out the _window_ that I knew he was serious.”

Tony laughs again, more freely this time, and asks, “What happened then?”

“First, we managed to get out of the house without waking Mother and Father,” Loki answers with a yawn, “Then we got in Clint’s car and took off.” He pauses, chuckling softly. “I was absolutely _terrified_.”

“Nothing bad happened, right?” Tony questions.

“No,” Loki retorts, sitting up so that he can stretch a bit, “We picked up Natasha Romanoff and Wanda Maximoff…” He stops and grins for a moment when Tony gives an incredulous snort. “… and we went to this golf course and drank bad alcohol all night. I don’t know why I enjoyed it all so much, but I did.”

“Maybe it’s because you were doing it with Thor,” Tony muses. He tilts his head in a somewhat canine fashion, smirks in that knowing-yet-smug way he can.

“Probably,” Loki concedes, glancing away from Tony’s face and stifling the surge of discomfort and infatuation inside him, “Plus, Steve was really nice, and Wanda and Natasha talked with me a whole lot. I actually felt like I had friends, for once.”

“You didn’t have any friends in high school?” Tony asks, and the way his face immediately takes on a sheepish, hangdog expression shows just how impulsive and clumsy his question is. Loki doesn’t take those words to heart, though.

“I had _one_ , but he’s gone, now,” Loki replies a bit coolly. Tony raises an inquisitive eyebrow at him, which Loki quickly deals with by cupping the man’s jaws and pressing a firm kiss to his lips. It takes Tony a moment to return the gesture, but it’s obvious that he understands what Loki means by it.

“I’m sorry,” Tony mumbles against Loki’s mouth when the man breaks the kiss, and Loki lets out a muted, easy laugh in response.

“It’s okay,” he assures Tony, “I’ll tell you about that later, when I’m not such a zombie.”

Tony nods silently in assent, but the guilty look on his face refuses to disappear. Loki cautiously chooses to ignore it (mostly because trying to get rid of it would only make things worse, and Lord knows he’s not in the mood for anymore drama tonight).

“All that sweetness and light didn’t last for long, though,” Loki notes, subconsciously hoping that changing the subject will distract Tony (this topic isn’t much happier, to be honest, but at least it’s not something Tony will feel bad for), “The next night, when Thor and I were in the emergency room, I didn’t see Steve and Clint at all, and Wanda and Natasha were in my room for one second and totally gone the next.” He scowls deeply at the memory, contrite and bitter with old heartbreak. “And they wonder why I can’t look at them straight.”

Tony is tight-lipped and puppy-eyed, now, and Loki feels a dull pang of guilt for speaking ill of the man’s friends (even if he knows that Tony would choose him over all but one of them any day). He forces a smile onto his face, says, “Whatever. That’s just the way things happened, I guess.”

“They could be different, though,” Tony argues in hushed tone, his eyes hard and solemn. This right here is something that Loki avoids like the plague, simply because it invariably manages to upset both him _and_ Tony, oftentimes with each other.

Have you ever wondered why Loki and Tony, when together, spend most of their time alone? Sure, the isolation _is_ pretty convenient when you consider the fuckton of sexual tension between them, but that by itself really isn’t the primary motivator behind their exclusivity.

You see, Loki kind of-sort of- _really_ **_hates_** most of Tony’s friends, and Tony is kind of-sort of- _really_ **_different_** when he’s around those assholes. It’s almost impossible for the two of them to agree over people like Steve and Clint and Natasha, so they’ve gotten to the point where they don’t even try to. Well, _Loki_ has.

“But they’re _not_ ,” Loki snaps, and before Tony can start ranting about how Steve has a beautiful soul and how Wanda is actually a great friend to have, he says, “What time is it? I need to go home.”

That’s all it takes for Tony to forget about the rest of the world. A mildly horrified expression plants itself on the man’s face as he exclaims, “No!”

Loki’s heart softens a bit at Tony’s earnest reaction. He exhales deeply, sighing, “I have to, Tony.”

“ _Whyyy?_ ” Tony whines, and while the tone of his voice is humorous in its silliness, the look on his face isn’t at all. It’s times like these when Loki finds it extremely hard to look at his friend, because doing so would have him in tears from the hurt and the _loneliness_ he sees there.

“I have a paper I need to finish writing,” Loki replies, smiling sadly, “Fenrir needs me. And you know I can’t leave the house alone with Thor.”

“But, _Loki_ ,” Tony snarls, desperate and miserable, and suddenly, he’s pulling said man into his lap and into his arms, clinging to him like he’d most certainly _die_ if he didn’t. Loki lets a helpless noise flee him as he returns Tony’s embrace, kisses his friend’s forehead in a vain attempt to comfort him. That’s when Tony says something absolutely _awful_.

“Can’t you just stay for the night?” the man asks, assaulting Loki with _those eyes_ , the ones deep enough to _drown_ in and hot enough to _melt_ you, “ _I_ need you.”

Oh _God_.

Loki’s smile turns bitter at Tony’s words, and he shakes his head, says, “You don’t need me.”

“ _Really_?” Tony retorts, his expression souring, “Then why is it so hard for me to sleep these days? And why do I feel like I’m breaking bones every time I watch you leave? Tell me that, won’t you?”

“Tony, _no_ ,” Loki moans, shaking his head once more and framing the man’s face with his hands. He presses his forehead against Tony’s, fighting back the urge to weep as he cries, “You can’t tell me things like that!”

“But it’s the truth,” Tony laments, tightening his arms around Loki in an obvious show of possessiveness. Loki can feel Tony’s breath hitting his lips like tiny monsoons, and the sensation scares the _shit_ out of him, makes him want to run away and hide from his _friend_ , this man he loves _so much_ that he’d break his fucking heart time after time just so that he can put it back together again.

“But it hurts,” Loki gasps, his eyes stinging with tears. He’s struggling in Tony’s grip, now, trying to escape so that he can _breathe_ or _think_ or _function_ like a normal human being.

“But you’re hurting _me_!” Tony counters, and the exclamation is enough to pull a sob out of Loki, to have him crying those precursory, baby tears that usually precede an all-out bawlfest, complete with tomato-face and snot waterfalls (wasn’t that a _beautiful_ mental image?).

“I’m sorry,” Loki whimpers, quiet and anxious, moving his hands to the nape of Tony’s neck and brushing his fingers through the hair there, “I _love_ you. I do. But I _have_ to go home.”

Tony doesn’t say anything for a long time. He just _sits_ there, holding onto Loki like a lifeline and staring deep into his pale eyes. Loki knows what he’s doing, knows that his friend is simply trying to lose himself in his odd shade of green and the warmth radiating off of him before he has to get by with nothing more than his imagination and an empty bed. And you know what?

Loki’s trying to do it, _too_ , for once. Part of him is seriously dreading the moment he lays down to sleep tonight, simply because he knows how very _difficult_ such an endeavor will be. Tony’s never kept him from his dreams before, but something in the way the man’s touched him for the past hour or two has Loki feeling incredibly wakeful. Dammit.

When Tony finally speaks, he’s murmuring, “I love you, too.” The _I’m sorry_ and _I understand_ and _It’s okay_ there goes unsaid, but definitely not unnoticed. No, no. Loki can hear those words loud and clear, can see them written plainly in Tony’s eyes.

Loki and Tony carefully, _painfully_ detangle themselves from one another, and it’s when they’re not in physical contact that Loki realizes that he’s spent the majority of his visit with his hands on Tony or Tony’s hands on him. It almost feels _wrong_ to not be touching his friend now ( _friend_ , **_ha_** ).

Then there’s the slow-but-fast process from the bed to the door, during which Loki grabs his shoes and his CD (dear _Lord_ ) and Tony makes a valiant yet largely unsuccessful attempt to pull himself together. Too soon, Tony’s opening the door for Loki, and Loki is stuck standing between the exit and the one he loves, trying to decide whether he’s making a mistake, what the hell a mistake _is_ , and if there’s even a mistake to be made here.

“I guess this is goodnight,” Tony says. His voice is surprisingly even, but Loki can easily pick up the tiny cracks in it, can see the raw sorrow in the man’s eyes. And he fucking _hates_ himself for it. He really does.

But instead of showing all that, Loki gives Tony a smile, one he knows makes the man’s heart beat just a little bit faster, and softly replies, “Goodnight, love.”

Tony slowly returns the smile, and before either of them know it, they’re laughing freely, leaning towards each other and kissing as if they’re saying _hello_ instead of _goodbye_. And it hurts like heaven, it does.

It takes a few prolonged moments for Loki and Tony to part, but when they do, their actions aren’t in vain. One last kiss and then Loki is off, hurrying out to his car on nimble, rhythmic feet.

It’s when Loki’s pulling out of Tony’s driveway that he chances a glance at the man’s front door, where he can see Tony _still_ standing there, his silhouette framed by the light coming from the inside of his house. He looks like an angel.

Loki cries all the way home.

**Author's Note:**

> I’d like to make a note about the chapter title and how this idea came to me. Basically, I was listening to a lot of Elton John and decided to take a walk down memory lane with him as my soundtrack artist. Yep. He’s who’s on the CD Tony gave to Loki, and each memory was inspired in some way, big or small, by one of his songs. Generic and cliché, I know.
> 
> Also, there’s something that’s been nagging at me as I’ve been writing Brothers. I’m sure you guys have noticed the cliquey-ness of the characters, and how I’ve been making references to Marvel, right? Well, one of the biggest things that’s gotten my attention is something that might seem confusing and/or off to you guys: Why isn’t Tony friends with all of the “Avengers” like they are with each other? And if that does bother you, I’m going to take a moment to explain my reasoning:
> 
> 1\. He is not a football player or part of that crowd. That’s the main reason, actually. He doesn’t like the football scene, and so many “Avengers” are part of that (Steve, Thor, Bruce, Clint, Natasha, Wanda). See?
> 
> 2\. He is, at the risk of sounding stupid, a ~rebel without a cause~. He’s crazy and doesn’t conform. Most of the “Avengers” don’t really care for that kind of behavior.
> 
> 3\. He’s always read as an outsider to me. I don’t know why, but to me, Tony has never seemed like any of the other Avengers; in both canon and this verse, but especially in canon. Maybe it’s because I read a whole lot more into his character than into the others’, buuuut, he doesn’t fit in to me (that isn’t necessarily a bad thing). Most of the Avengers are outright and wholeheartedly heroic and “Let’s go fucking save people!”, while Tony seems to be more self-interested and heroic on a personal instead of a general level. He’s intuitive and in touch with himself, and the other Avengers are more… open and blatantly unfamiliar with their needs, if that makes any sense. I don’t know. Basically, Tony feels like an outsider in canon, so I made him an outsider in this verse. This is actually kind of a funny reason, because most people see Bruce in the outcast position.
> 
> Comments are very much appreciated, lovelies. I’m also very open to new ideas, so don’t be afraid to step on that soapbox.
> 
> \- Gabi.


End file.
